


subtract the distance

by itsamagicalplace



Series: one month, four weeks, too many hours [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Philinda - Freeform, Sexual Content (Non-Graphic)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-02-23 19:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 90,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2553380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsamagicalplace/pseuds/itsamagicalplace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When self-defence instructor Melinda May gets dragged on a halloween night out with best friend Maria, all she wants is some flat shoes and to go back home; instead, after a slight disaster involving cocktails, Captain America, and a cat costume, she meets somebody who will change her life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. October

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter will represent the events of a month.

**October**

Melinda smiled as the last person exited her class, and she assessed the room in front of her. One of the best things about teaching tai-chi, was the fact that after each class, her studio was hardly ever left in a mess. She knew full well that each evening the general gym area required a major clean up; people left empty water bottles, energy bar wrappers, weights, exercise balls - whatever really - all over the place, and it took up to an hour every night for the team-member on duty just to get it tidy again.

Her class required nothing more than the individual themselves, and occasionally a mat each, but once they had been stacked against the far wall, her work was done. Maybe her students took their bottles with them because they were just tidier people, or maybe they were slightly afraid of her, knowing she also taught kick-boxing and self-defence, but either way, it was good to not have to spend her lunch break sorting out other people’s messes.

Locking the door behind her, she checked her phone, happy to see she had almost the full thirty minutes remaining for her lunch, and headed off through the gym, listening to the combined sounds of various pieces of equipment running, and the pounding of autumn rain on the roof above her. She found it almost relaxing, which was probably a good thing seeing as she spent five days a week there.

Shooting a death glare at the youth who whistled as she walked by, Melinda swung open the glass doors at the end of the gym and headed towards the staff room, mentally debating whether she actually wanted the food she knew was waiting in the fridge for her. Cold couscous wasn’t exactly appealing today, and the temperature outside made her long for something warm.

Passing reception however, she stopped and headed over, grinning as she noticed who was manning the desk.

“Check you on reception.”

"I know,” Maria rolled her eyes – Melinda was well aware of how much her friend hated answering the phones, especially considering she was practically the deputy manager. “But Donnie phoned in sick – something about falling over on the ice-rink in town and having concussion or something – and there was nobody else available to cover… unless you fancy it for a bit?”

Maria looked at her hopefully, but Melinda just snorted.

“Not a chance, I’ve got a class in half an hour and then another two after that.”

“You busy today?” she asked, returning to typing something on the computer in front of her, and sending it to print.

“Yeah, my afternoon classes are virtually full,” Melinda replied, leaning on the wooden desk with her arms. “Which is weird.”

“It’s school holidays.”

 _Ah._ “True.”

Maria grinned up at her, knowing just how busy the classes could get in half-term. “Fun.”

Melinda shrugged. Sure, the more people in her classes, the harder they were, and the hotter the room got, and the more crowded together everybody was, but more customers meant she was helping more people learn to control their bodies and kick ass, and that was always a good thing in her mind.

“What you doing Friday, Mel?”

Melinda watched her carefully over the top of the desk. “Nothing,” she replied warily, knowing Maria already had something up her sleeve.

“In that case, you’re coming out with me.”

“Oh no,” she shook her head. “Not again.”

“Come on,” she whined, looking up from the computer with pleading eyes. “When was the last time you went on a night out?”

“My birthday, three weeks ago, which you’d remember if you hadn’t practically comatosed yourself.”

That night still resounded painfully in her memory – Maria had insisted she did something to celebrate, so on a whim Melinda had invited Natasha and Bobbi along too. It was a rare occasion they were all free the same evening, but unfortunately the four of them had consumed far more alcohol than should have been allowed, and then somehow ended up spending the rest of the night in A&E after Maria drunkenly tripped over her own feet, dragging Melinda down alongside her. Her wrists still ached now from where she’d hit the floor.

“Exactly” Maria continued, as though she thought the previous time had been anything but a disaster. “You need to get out more.”

“One, no I don’t –“

“- You’ll never find a man if you don’t go out.”

“And two,” Melinda ignored her and carried on as though she hadn’t spoken, “It’ll be Halloween.”

There was something about Halloween that made her uncomfortable – it had done ever since that night. Being surrounded by people hiding their identities behind rubber masks, leering out to anyone and everyone in the street, left her with a deep sense of unease each year. It was fine for kids, dressing up and carving pumpkins and trick-or-treating, but she’d had enough experiences with the holiday occasion to know that a lot of people took it as an excuse to act like little shits.

“Exactly, you have to do something on Halloween.”

“You know full well it’s the one night of the year that all the psychos come out.”

It was meant as a joke remark, but even as she said it Melinda felt the all too familiar punch to her stomach she got every time her mind flooded with memories she did not want.

“99% of the people out there are not psychopaths” Maria said softly, watching Melinda’s eyes glaze over as she relived what was probably her worst nightmare. “They’re just normal people, on a night out.”

She sighed, and met Maria’s gaze again. “I know they aren’t, I just…”

“I know.”

They looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them.

“Look,” Maria said, tapping a set of perfectly manicured nails against her desk, and bringing Melinda back to present day. “There’s this bar downtown – Jackson’s it’s called – and they’re having a Halloween party on Friday night. Nothing massive or crazy, and the door is ticketed. I’m meeting a few friends there, and my brother has just moved to the area so he’s coming too. You should join us.”

Melinda sighed. In fairness, it would be better than staying in alone all night, despite how raucous she knew Maria’s friends could be. There was just one thing that was niggling at her.

“When you say party… please tell me it isn’t fancy dress?”

The smile that spread across Maria’s face made her groan. Of course it would be fancy dress; she shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“I hate dressing up.”

“But you do it so well” she replied, wheeling around the reception area on her chair, fetching the papers from the printer before moving back again.

“Only because if I have to do it, I’m going make sure the effort is worth it.”

“Look” Maria chided, stapling the pages together. “It’s better than watching cheesy vampire movies on your own.”

“You’re right; I’d much rather the real thing” she replied sarcastically. “I’d love to spend the evening in a bar surrounded by men wearing fake blood and plastic fangs, drunkenly attempting to bite the neck of anything remotely resembling a female.”

“Sound like just your type then” Maria muttered, earning her a glare from Melinda.

“Is Steve going?” she asked desperately, hoping that if at least he came there was a chance Maria wouldn’t get so ridiculously intoxicated she lost control.

Maria’s eyes lit up at the mention of her fiancé, as they did every time his name cropped up in conversation. It was sweet really, how much they were in love, despite the fact Maria took every opportunity to piss Melinda off by acting overly “couple-y” with him in front of her. Public displays of affection? Really not her style.

“Yeah, he’s bringing some work colleagues. Come on Mel, it’ll be fun.”

She sighed in response. “What are you going as?”

“You want to know that” Maria said smugly, as the phone on her desk began to ring shrilly, “You have to turn up.”

And with that, she answered the phone, slipping straight from sarcastic friend into professional business woman in just a blink.

“Good Afternoon, Providence Fitness Centre, this is Maria speaking…”

Melinda just rolled her eyes, before heading away from the desk and through the doors across the room, ending up in the staff lounge. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, she took a deep swig, allowing the cold liquid to refresh her mind. She had another four days of classes to run before Friday, and she couldn’t do it if her head was awash with vampires and nightmares and ghosts.

Not even the imaginary kind.

 

* * *

 

Melinda wasn’t sure how she’d been talked into it, but sitting on her bedside table was a ticket to the Halloween party she was going to the following night. Maria was thrilled. Melinda less so.

She glared at the ticket again for good measure.

Now all she had to do was find a costume of some kind, and as usual, she’d left it until the last minute to sort something out. Literally. It was almost midnight and she had classes the whole of the next day, so it was a case of now or never to find something to wear. Sliding open her wardrobe doors she stared at the mass of clothing facing her. Maria always complained she wore too much black, and the contents of her wardrobe seemed to confirm that. Natasha didn’t seem to care – she also lived in black a lot of the time – and often when her Russian flatmate was home the two would share jackets and shoes. But right now Tash was off performing a tour of Swan Lake at a fancy theatre in Washington, so Melinda had the flat to herself for a few weeks.

She sighed as she looked over the collection in front of her, and picked up the steaming mug of tea from her bedside table. Sipping slowly at the liquid, and feeling the burn as it travelled down her throat, she let her mind wander through her limited options. She was determined to be able to create a costume without actually having to go and spend a fortune on new items after work tomorrow, so it had to be something relatively simple.

She was almost tempted to wear her usual clothes and just buy some fake blood to put on her face, but she knew from experience how hard it could be to get that stuff off of her skin the next day. Much harder than real blood, that was for sure. And anyway, if this event was ticketed, then chances were they would expect guests to actually make an effort.

She could practically hear Maria shouting suggestions at her in her head.

Vampire? Witch? Character from a movie or series? Ghost? Cat?

Cat. A cat was simple enough. She could wear her own clothes, and just add a few details.

Melinda placed her mug down and switched the radio on quietly, before turning back to the task at hand. Pulling off the baggy tee she usually slept in and throwing it onto the bed behind her, she set about removing various garments from her wardrobe and combining them into outfits.

After around half an hour of switching and changing and shaking her head, she decided on what to wear; wet-look leggings, with a black corset top she’d bought for a burlesque hen-do she went on several years ago, and chunky studded heels. She’d much rather wear flats, but if she was out with Maria (who was tall anyway, but would also more than likely be wearing shoes with a ridiculous heel height) then she’d rather not feel dwarfed by her friend. Inwardly cursing her genetics, she turned around to look at her reflection from all sides in the mirror in front of her.

“It’ll do” she muttered to herself, changing back into her sleepwear, and hanging her “costume” over the back of a  chair in the corner of the room. The chair had been her grandmothers, and the dragons that had been intricately carved into the wooden legs used to intrigue her when she was a child. When her grandmother had died, Melinda had rescued the chair, and each time she looked at it she was reminded of the innocence and freedom her youth had brought. She smiled as the memories washed over her, before turning off the radio and climbing into bed.

All she needed was to find a pair of cat ears – she was sure she had some shoved in the back of a cupboard somewhere – and dig out her black eyeliner.  Whiskers she could draw.

But there was no way in hell she’d be wearing a tail.

Lying in the darkness, surrounded by cool silken sheets, she let the distant sound of the city lull her to sleep.

 

* * *

 

She couldn’t lie, from what she could see through the cat-eye contacts she’d bought at the last minute, the bar looked amazing. A hell of a lot of effort had definitely gone into making it look so good, and Melinda was almost glad she had actually agreed to come. Almost.

The whole room was illuminated by an eerie glow, each bulb hanging from the ceiling surrounded by an orange paper shade. There were fake cobwebs drifting across the doorways, and resting on the corners of the artwork on the walls, and someone had placed a hand-print on the mirror on the far wall in what looked like blood. The bar itself was mostly clear aside from a couple of artistically carved pumpkins set upon the surface, the flames from inside them glinting reflections onto the black marble.

Clearly the staff were taking the whole Halloween theme to heart, and alongside the usual bottled drinks – various beers, fruit ciders, spirits – there were themed cocktails available for that night only. Melinda perused the menu before settling on a “Ghostbuster”. What turned up in front of her was an acid green liquid, and as she tapped her black nails against the bar and tasted the sweet liquid, she had to admit that this was not as bad as she had thought.

“Mel!”

She turned to find Maria stood behind her, and she had to smile. The girl really did go all out at times like this. A straight black wig reaching halfway down her back, deep scarlet lips, sweeping eye-shadow, and a floor-length gown trailing around her feet, Maria made one hell of a Morticia Addams. Steve followed her to the bar, and Melinda was amused to see that he was dressed, naturally, as Gomez, right down to the moustache and pin-striped suit. He’d even dyed his hair.

“Nice eyes” he said in greeting, and Melinda smiled a little more. The yellow contacts she’d found would probably hurt later on, but for now, she was glad she’d got them.

“Thanks, you both look amazing.”

“It was her choice” he replied, indicating at his over-excited fiancé currently was greeting various other people Melinda had never met. “And what the lady wants…”

“The lady shall get” she finished for him.  She’d known her friend long enough to understand exactly how persuasive she could be. Melinda found it kind of adorable how much Maria was in charge in her romantic life, and yet Steve never seemed to have any issues about it. To him, as long as she was happy, he was happy, and it had been working for them for almost five years. They were getting married the following summer, and Melinda was already dreading what her bridesmaid’s dress would look like…

The next couple of hours flew by. Melinda couldn’t believe how fast the night had gone, and before she knew it they were calling last orders at the bar.

“I’ll get this round” she announced to the group at her table, standing and swaying slightly as she registered how much she had already drank. She’d ended up sitting with Maria and a few of her friends from college, who, whilst she’d never met them before, all seemed really nice, but were definitely party people, and afterwards were planning to head off to one of the local clubs. She put her foot down at that, insisting it wasn’t her scene.

Reaching the bar, she found a large crowd of people also gathered around, obviously planning to stock up on drinks before they stopped serving. The guy next to her, who looked vaguely familiar, although she couldn’t figure out where she knew him from, was dressed in what was actually a very impressive Captain America costume, and he smiled shyly at her as she reached the bar. He ordered an array of drinks, and the bartender put them onto a tray for him to carry, which was in hindsight probably a very bad idea considering both how busy and how drunk everybody around them was.

She saw what was about to happen before it did, but could neither do anything to stop it, nor get out of the way in time. As he picked up the tray, somebody behind them pushed forwards, knocking him off balance. Melinda watched in virtual slow motion as his hands wobbled, and the tray tipped sideways, multiple cocktails and drinks sliding across the surface before falling over the edge, crashing and smashing onto the bar below, their contents pouring out and all over the two of them.

“Shit!” they shouted in unison, attempting to jump away from the onslaught of liquid, and failing miserably as loud cheers (and jeers) from people around them began.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry” he cried, looking desperately from the liquid pooling across the marble, to her shocked face, to the state of both their clothes. Somehow, despite it being his tray of drinks, it was Melinda who had suffered the worst of the spillage.

“I…” she didn’t really have any words, but she could feel the cold seeping through her outfit, and the sugary drinks sticking to her skin.

The woman behind the bar threw some towels at them with a roll of her eyes, insisting it happened all the time, before moving on to serve another patron.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I just did that” the guy stammered, trying to stop the liquid trail before any more of it soaked them; his mission was flawed already, because Melinda was pretty sure she couldn’t have got any wetter if she’d climbed into the bath.

“It’s fine” she muttered, brushing herself off as best she could. It was a good thing her clothes were black. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I’ve probably just ruined a great night out haven’t I?”

To her surprise, Melinda found herself exhaling with a shaky laugh, and he looked at her confused.

“It’s ironic really,” she explained. “I didn’t even want to come out tonight, but my friend forced me to, and then I almost decided I was glad I did….until now.”

“I should have held on to the tray better or something, I’m sorry, my sister always used to tell me I was clumsy after drinking…”

Melinda looked at him properly, taking in his appearance, from his apparent age, to his comic-book styled costume, right down to his blue eyes. Looking at them, something in her mind clicked, and it gave her the answer she’d been looking for.

“You’re Phil aren’t you?” she asked, her brain finally snapping the right conclusion.

His look of surprise told her she was right.

“Maria’s brother,” she explained, reassuring him she wasn't just psychic. “I thought you looked vaguely familiar.”

“Yeah, I am. Is she the friend who dragged you here?”

Melinda nodded.

“Sounds like her.”

He smiled at her a little, and she found herself smiling back despite the creeping chill she was getting from her damp clothes. The shiver that ran through her however was involuntary, and his smile vanished again, getting replaced by a frown when he remembered how wet she was.

“Do you have a jacket or something with you?”

She shook her head, mentally reprimanding herself for her decision not to bring one. She’d thought she would need to, seeing as she was travelling by taxi there and back. Now she wasn’t sure if a taxi driver would even take her, not if she was this wet.

“I have one over at our table,” he gestured behind himself vaguely. “You can have it so you don’t freeze when you leave.”

Melinda shook her head. “Oh no it’s okay.”

“You can take it.”

“It’s fine honestly.”

“Please?” He looked at her pleadingly. “I’ll feel so much better knowing you’re not freezing to death.”

With a small smile she relented, nodding as she picked up her clutch and followed him over to his table, reacting in surprise when she noticed he was sat with Steve. But then obviously if he was Maria’s brother, he would know her fiancé.

“I guess you two know each other?” Phil asked, seeing her expression and indicating between them both as he reached over for his jacket.

“Yeah, this is Maria’s kick-ass friend” Steve replied with a grin.

“Where are those drinks Coulson?” a larger guy with dark hair interrupted, waving an empty beer bottle in their direction.

“Here” Melinda replied, pointing at her soaked outfit.

“Can’t drink it from there sweetheart” the guy leered. “Although I sure wouldn’t mind trying” he added with a wink. It took all of Melinda’s strength not to smack him there and then.

“Ignore him” Phil muttered, handing her his jacket. “He’s just drunk.”

“It’s fine” she replied quietly, taking it from him and glancing over at her table. Maria was watching her with a strange expression on her face. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

She wandered back to the group.

“What happened to you?”

Melinda glanced down at her outfit; in fairness, being black she couldn’t actually see how wet it was (but she could sure as hell feel it).

“I met your brother, and he decided to pour a tray of drinks all over me.”

“Idiot.” Maria shook her head, taking a small handful of crisps from the bowl in the centre of the table. “Is that his jacket?”

“Yeah, I think he feels bad.”

“So he should.”

Melinda smiled. “I’m gonna have to go,” she explained with an expression she hoped was disappointment. “I’m soaked.” She pulled some notes out of her bag and dropped them onto the table. “Last round is on me but you’ll have to go get it yourself.”

Maria rolled her eyes at her, but nodded, glancing back towards where her brother was stood.

“Night Mel.”

“Night.”

Melinda walked back to Phil at his table, pushing through the crowds of vampires, witches and ghosts enjoying the end of their evening. At a guess, it was probably around 2am, and Melinda knew getting a taxi right now would be a pain.

“Should I give this to Maria when I see her at work or-?” she asked when she reached him, indicating the jacket. He moved away from the table slightly so they could talk more privately.

“Or I could give you my number so we could meet up next week or something?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, and he gave her a goofy smile in response.

"Sorry, that wasn’t meant to sound like a chat-up line.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” she shook her head with a grin.

“I blame the alcohol; I don’t get the chance to go out and drink much these days… I think I’m out of practice”

She was going to ask why, but then they both headed outside, and fifteen minutes later Melinda somehow found herself typing his name and number into her phone anyway as a taxi pulled up.

“I never got your name?” he said suddenly, holding open the cab door for her. She turned to face him just before she climbed in, hugging his jacket close.

“Melinda.”

Phil smiled.

“Goodnight Melinda.”

"Goodnight."


	2. November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning for discussions of death.

**November**

 

Melinda was in the last five minutes of her Monday morning tai-chi class when she felt the pair of eyes watching her from the door. Not that she needed to turn around to see who it was. She and Maria had shared their lunch break almost every Monday for the past two years, and often found themselves sitting in the small café next door; the pouring rain outside would do nothing to hamper Maria in her quest to consume enough coffee that she could function following a weekend off.

Maria leaned against the door frame and grinned as her friend led the class through their final motions, encouraging the careful control of inhalation and exhalation, before calling an end to the session. No matter how many times she ran the session, and how often the same moves were repeated, Melinda was always filled with a sense of peace once it was over.

As the last attendee left the room, Maria walked in, smiling in greeting as Melinda began to pile away the yoga mats the class had used.

“I assume coffee is needed?” Melinda asked, taking one look at Maria and knowing full well where they were heading.

“God yes. I swear I’m still hung-over from Friday.”

“Is that even possible?”

“I didn’t think so, not until I woke up on Saturday afternoon feeling like I’d had a lobotomy, and swore never to drink again.”

“Bullshit, you’ll be out again next weekend.”

“Probably true.”

Melinda threw a look at her over her shoulder, and Maria shrugged.

“Okay, definitely true, but let me just pretend for now.”

She rolled her eyes as she piled the last of the mats away into the corner of the room, and turned back to face her.

“So, where did you go after the bar?”

“This 80’s themed club down on 7th.”

“80’s? Really?”

“I think so?”

“You think?” she asked, a smirk spreading across her face. “That bodes well.”

“Well it’s not my fault, Izzie insisted we go out after the bar closed and –“

“- and naturally you thought it would be a great idea considering how much you’d already drank.”

“Naturally.” The grin was back. “From what I remember it was pretty good.”

“And how much do you remember?” Melinda asked. She knew full well she’d received several text messages at around 4am that she’d struggled to decipher, including one with a photograph attached of what appeared to show Maria and a friend pole dancing.

“Not a lot… there might have been shots?” The look on Melinda’s face made Maria continue quickly, clearly skipping a lot of what had happened before she gave her more ammunition to blackmail her with. “Anyway the last thing I remember was calling Steve to come and get me.”

“At what? 5am?”

“Yeah.”

“And he came?”

“Yeah, bless him, he got up and walked down to the club.”

“You must be such a pain to live with, remind me again how you convinced him to marry you?”

Maria grinned and Melinda simply rolled her eyes. The two of them headed out from the studio, pausing momentarily to allow Melinda to lock the door behind her, before walking off towards the main entrance.

“Speaking of marriage Mel,” Maria said, as they exited the gym area and arrived at reception “End of the month, Saturday the 29th? We’re going dress shopping.”

Melinda now groaned. Shopping with Maria generally was bad enough; the woman had a habit of going into multiple stores over the course of a day to try clothes and shoes on, before deciding she actually wanted an item she’d seen in the first shop they’d visited. Melinda could only imagine how much fun bridesmaid’s dress shopping would be.

“Don’t look at me like that, you’re coming” Maria said seeing the expression on Melinda’s face, who immediately tried, and failed, to change it for one that looked more supportive. “I know you don’t do dresses but this one is important.”

“I know” she sighed, mentally imagining being forced into a dress made of chiffon and lace, and momentarily feeling slightly queasy. “I know it is, I’ll be there don’t worry.”

“Good.” Maria held open the main entrance door for her and they headed out into the rain. “Oh, and Mel? You’re not wearing your leather jacket over it either.”

* * *

 

 **TEXT:** Hi, Phil? It’s Melinda, person you threw drinks at last weekend? X

_**TEXT:** Not sure that’s quite how it went down cat-woman. X_  


**TEXT:** Keep telling yourself that captain. I assume you’d like your jacket back? X

_**TEXT:** Despite how good you looked in it, yes please. X_

 

Melinda looked down at her phone with a small smile. Was he flirting with her? They were flirting weren’t they? Had she come off flirty when they had met? She tried to focus back on Halloween; he’d seemed nice enough despite the cocktail disaster. But being her best friend’s brother was a slight issue; didn’t that break some kind of moral code? She shrugged and carried on – it was only texting.

 

 **TEXT:** You want to meet this week sometime? X

**_TEXT:_ ** _I have Thursdays off. You free then? X_

**TEXT:** I’m working in the morning, but am free from 1 till 3? X

**_TEXT:_ ** _Perfect. I’m coming to the centre anyway, meet you at reception? X_  
 ****

**TEXT:** Okay, will see you then x

_**TEXT:** See you then cat-woman x_

* * *

 

When Melinda walked into reception on Thursday afternoon, about ten minutes later than she should have arrived, she was expecting Phil to be there waiting for her.

What she wasn’t expecting was the small child clinging to one of his legs. It took Melinda few moments to realise she must have been his daughter. On second thoughts, of course she was his daughter. Maria had mentioned a few months back how she was glad Phil was moving closer because it meant she would be able to spend more time with her niece, but Melinda hadn’t really given it another thought. And for some reason, the two things didn’t click when she met him the other night.

“Hey” she called out, moving behind the reception desk and taking a file down from one of the shelves behind it.

“Is it bad I’m slightly disappointed you don’t have cat eyes anymore?” he replied in greeting, as he walked over to her hand in hand with his little girl. At a guess, Melinda thought the child must have only been around four or five.

“Yeah, a little.” She smiled at him, coming back round to the front of the desk, before turning to the kid. “Hey” she said quietly, bending down so she was more at her height. “It’s Lola right?”

The girl smiled shyly and gave a small nod, before hiding behind Phil’s leg again.

“Maria mentioned there was a kids aqua class at half-past, so I thought I’d book Lola in and see how she likes it.”

“It’s a good class” Melinda said, standing back up to face him. “And Sharon who runs it is great with the kids, always playing games and everything… she’ll love it.”

“You still want to go?” Phil asked, looking back at his daughter with a smile. Melinda couldn’t help but see the resemblance; the kid had Phil’s smile and blue eyes, but the caramel hues glinting in her hair were definitely not his. And either she took after her father’s love of comic books, or he pushed it on her, but Melinda could see she was wearing an “Avengers” tee-shirt under her coat.

Lola nodded, smiling back, before looking at Melinda curiously.

“Is Auntie Maria here?”

“She’s in her office” Melinda said. “I can ask her to come out when I get your dad’s jacket?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay” she looked back to Phil with a small smile. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Melinda walked back across reception and through the doors leading to the staff areas. She’d brought his jacket in that morning and hung it in her locker to stop anyone else taking it, so once she retrieved it, she set off to find Maria. She knew her friend wasn’t on her lunch break, but had a feeling she would appreciate the distraction greatly, especially given the amount of work she was doing at the moment.

“Hey,” Melinda said, coming to a stop once she reached Maria’s office. “There’s an adorable kid in reception asking for her aunt.”

“Is it half 1 already?” she asked, looking up from the pile of paperwork on her desk. Melinda would hate to sit behind a desk and spend her life doing administration and signing off on things, but Maria was determined and ambitious, and was hoping to become manager within the next few years. “Wow, alright, I’m coming.” Maria threw down her pen, following Melinda out of the room and back to reception.

“How’s my favourite niece?” she called as soon as they got through the door.

“I’m your only niece” Lola replied with a giggle, running over to her and jumping into her arms.

“Yeah? You’re still my favourite. So you ready for your first pool party kid?”

“Yeahhh!”

“Awesome. You want me to take her through to get changed?” she asked, flickering her gaze between Phil and Melinda as though she knew something they didn’t.

“Yeah, thanks Maria. See you later Lo.”

“Bye dad!”

Maria took her niece’s hand, and with a wave to Phil, the two headed off through the double doors leading to the gym.

“She’s so cute.”

Phil grinned happily after his daughter, despite the door having already closed behind her. “She’s amazing.”

Melinda could hear the notes of pride in his voice, and had to smile. “How old is she?”

“Almost five now, I can’t believe it.”

“Must be so nice, having someone looking up to you for everything.”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s hard sometimes, doing this on my own, but she’s worth it.”

Melinda realised with a jolt that she already knew he had raised Lola on his own. Maria had mentioned to her a few years ago that her brother’s wife had died in a car accident, but once again, it was something she had somehow managed to momentarily forget.

“Your jacket” she said, handing it to him with a small smile before she said something to upset him. “Thanks again.”

“No problem, again I’m sorry for the spillage.”

“It wasn’t your fault, seriously, stop apologising for it.”

“Sorry.”

He grinned sheepishly, before dragging a hand through his hair. “Are you… are you free for a bit now?”

Melinda looked at him. “Yeah, until 3…why?”

“I’ve got an hour until Lola’s class finishes…would you like to go for coffee or something?”

She smiled. “Sure.”

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later and the two were sat opposite each other in a small coffee shop down the road, watching the raindrops trickling down the window panes. He’d originally ordered her a coffee, which in all honesty Melinda possessed a strong dislike for, but he had paid for it (despite her protests), so she was planning to drink it just to be polite, but when he saw her face her realised his mistake. Five minutes later and she had a steaming mug of green tea in front of her, and Phil had made a few joke remarks about drinks being cursed around the two of them.

It was comfortable really, considering the fact it was only the second time they had met, but Melinda wondered whether it was because she knew Maria so well that she felt like she already sort of knew Phil.

“So how long have you worked with my sister?”

“About three years now.” Melinda sometimes struggled to believe it had only been that length of time; often it felt like a lot longer.

“You’re one of the bridesmaids for her wedding aren’t you?”

She nodded in response, taking another sip of her tea, feeling it warming her through after their walk in the rain.

“I remember a few months back she gave our mum a list of who was doing what at the wedding” Phil continued. “I knew all the others, but didn’t recognise your name.”

“I don’t really know many of her other friends, so it might be a bit weird.”

“They’re okay,” he replied, a small smile on his face. “A bit wild when they all get together, but they’re nice really.”

“Wild like Maria gets?”

“Yeah.”

“Great” she replied sarcastically. She loved Maria, she really did, but a room full of people just like her could be slightly too much to bear.

Phil laughed, clearly in the knowledge of exactly what a party animal his sister and her friends could be when they got going.

He’d removed his coat once they had arrived, and it now lay with his spare jacket across the back of a spare chair at their table. Melinda had been quite surprised when he had taken it off, revealing a pair of well-toned arms that she had not realised he had been hiding, and had not noticed before. She had to force herself to keep her eyes on his face.

“So, you’ve just moved here?”

“Yeah, about a month ago now.”

“You liking it much?”

“It’s nice,” he replied, smiling a little as he took another sip of coffee. “It’s a bit quieter than Portland, but I think we’ll be okay.”

“Why’d you move?”

“Closer to family” he said quietly, but the way he avoided looking at her when he answered made Melinda realise it was probably something to do with losing his wife.

“And does Lola like it?” she asked, changing the subject quickly. She wasn’t sure if he knew that she was aware of what had happened to his family, but she didn’t think it wise to bring it up today.

“I hope she will,” he replied, turning back to face her again. “We’ve not had much chance to explore yet, but I’ve got her enrolled in a local playgroup – she goes Monday to Wednesday - and Maria said there was a park nearby that she’d like so -”

“- It’s just round the corner from here.”

“How close?”

“Literally about ten minutes away.” Melinda pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the time. “I can show you if you want? It’s on the way back to the centre anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, why not.”

They finished the remainder of their drinks and Phil put his coat back on. Melinda grabbed her umbrella from the chair next to her, and the two headed out. He held the door for her again, as he had on their way in, like a proper gentleman, and as she passed him with a small smile, she had to remind herself that this was just a casual meeting, nothing more.

* * *

 

The rain had finally ceased, and the November sun was trying it’s best to fight through the mass of swirling grey clouds above. The temperature however, was still pretty low, and Phil could feel the nip of the wind against his face as the two of them walked towards the park.

Melinda turned them down a small footpath lined with trees, and as she walked she occasionally kicked a pile of wet leaves, just like a child would do. The scent of damp earth filled Phil’s nostrils as they moved, and he took a deep breath.

“This is amazing. It’s so…green around here.”

She raised an eyebrow at him as she looked at their surroundings.

“Okay, well not right now. Now everything is orange and dead and autumn-y.”

“Is that even a word?”

“Of course.”

She laughed slightly as they carried on, and Phil could see the pink tinge to her cheeks the cool air left behind. She was gorgeous; he’d thought she looked great when she’d been dressed up, but out here in the autumn light, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Phil had a feeling she was one of those people who had no idea about the effect she had on others.

“But it’ll be green again one day,” he continued, before she saw him watching her. “That’s what I meant.”

“It’s a good place to come and relax sometimes,” she said after a while. “I like it… it’s peaceful.”

A few more steps and they rounded the corner, entering the park itself.

Phil could imagine what the area would look like in a few weeks’ time as winter arrived, the freezing cold forming crystal icicles on every tree, the fields covered in a blanket of snow deep enough that Lola would be able to throw herself into it and make snow-angels. They could come here, and have a snowball fight, just like in the Christmas movies they always watched together. Then in the summer, there would be kids playing and laughing, families having picnics and food fights in the long grasses as the sun shone down, and evenings spent watching dragonflies dance over the dewy blades towards the pond on the other side.

He smiled as he took it all in.

Lola would love it.

They walked in silence for a bit on the way back, but despite how little they knew each other, Phil was surprised that it didn’t feel awkward at all. It felt almost, natural.

“So what made you decide to teach self-defence?” he asked eventually, after the whirlwind of thoughts running through his head convinced him he was genuinely interested in the life of the woman walking beside him; that hadn’t happened since…well, since he’d met Audrey really.

“Long story short?” she replied, halting in her path and brushing her dark hair from her face, staring at some unknown spot in the distance. “Something happened, and it made me realise that everybody should be able to defend themselves if need be.”

He looked at her carefully, but she turned away and kept walking, so he dropped it. Before she had looked away though, he could have sworn he’d seen a flash of anger in her eyes, but as soon as it had appeared it was gone again.

Phil had to remind himself that the only reason they were actually here was technically so he could get his jacket back; they barely knew one another, and he had no right to dig through her past if she didn’t want to talk about it. Which, from the firm tone of her reply, she did not. And anyway, it wasn’t as though he didn’t have his own tragic backstory.

* * *

 

By the time they arrived back at the centre, it was almost half 2, and Phil decided to wait in reception for Maria to bring Lola back out.

“Thanks for showing me the park” he said gratefully, as Melinda wandered back around the reception desk to check out the details of her next class. “She’s going to love it; I might take her this weekend.”

“She will” Melinda agreed with a small smile. “And no problem, thanks for the tea.”

“It was nice, wasn’t it?”

The way he phrased it made her think he wasn’t just talking about the drinks. “The tea, or…?”

“All of it.”

She looked over to see him watching her, a small smile on his face. She couldn’t help but smile back, knowing full well she hadn’t actually smiled so much in a very long time.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “It was.”

They both stood in silence for a few moments, the only sounds being the hum of the heater in the far corner, desperately working to keep the area at a semi-warm temperature, and the distant sound of music, no doubt from a currently running aerobic or dance class in one of the studios.

“Would you like to do it again, sometime?”

Melinda looked at him, a small feeling of butterflies stirring in her lower stomach. She wanted to meet him again, badly, and she had no idea just how much until the moment he asked.

“Yes, I would” she admitted.

“Me too.”

* * *

 

It became almost a routine. The next two Thursdays, they repeated the previous weeks’ activities. First, Phil dropped Lola off at her kids aqua class, Maria took her through, and then he and Melinda headed out to the local café. The only difference each week being that as it headed towards the latter half of November, the wintery chill in the air got more prominent.

As they chatted, the two gradually discovered new things about one another. She asked him about his job, what he did, and was surprised to find out he was also a teacher, although high school history wasn’t exactly the same as kick-boxing. Phil said it was hard, being the new teacher in the area, because a lot of the students thought they could mess about in his classes, and he was struggling to keep a few of them motivated, especially in the build up to Christmas.

Lola was almost five, and Phil talked about her a lot. It was clear to Melinda that his daughter was the focal point of his life, and he adored her, but she could tell he was extremely protective over her. Almost, over-protective. But she brushed it off as it being because she was an only child. Melinda didn’t talk to Lola much herself, only a hello each time the two of them arrived in reception each week, and she would ask how her aqua class had gone, but she still liked the kid. And apparently Lola was enjoying her life in their new house, and hadn’t really asked about Portland, which Phil was relieved about. On Saturday afternoons he took her to the park Melinda had shown him, and casually slipped into conversation that if Melinda ever wanted to, she was welcome to join them both on these outings.

She’d smiled and thanked him for the offer, but came up with an excuse when he did. She wasn’t sure why exactly, because she did like him, and the kid, but deep down she told herself it was just because they were a family, and she didn’t want to intrude on their time together.

Phil told her he had Thursdays and weekends off with his daughter, and that she went to his mother’s each Friday.

Melinda knew his mother. She’d met her a couple of times over the past few years, either when she’d been round at Maria’s house, or when the two had been out on one of Maria’s shopping trips, and she liked her. Anne Coulson was lovely, and Phil seemed strangely happy that Melinda already knew her.

She told Phil about her own life, that she was an only child, that she had been raised by her mother alone and that they had moved a lot due to her mother’s work. Melinda had never really been one for sharing her life story, but she found it quite easy to talk to him about the places she had lived, and the things she had done. She mentioned her room-mate, and talked a bit about some of her other friends.

It was natural.

He still held the door for her each week, and the butterflies she’d felt when he’d first asked her to meet again came back when she saw him.

Each time they said goodbye to one another, they promised to meet up again.

* * *

 

The last Thursday in November came around faster than they even realised, and once more they embarked on their routine.

The two left the café just as they had previously, and without even really thinking about it, wandered around to the local park again. Only this time, instead of leaving and returning to the centre, they ended up sitting side by side on a bench, overlooking the rest of the park. Somehow, and Melinda wasn’t sure how it had happened, they were talking about Phil’s life back in Portland, and after a few moments of silence, she knew he was debating whether to say something.

“What?”

He looked at her. “What?”

“I can almost hear you biting back your words.”

“How much do you know about Lola’s mother?” he asked, when it appeared his words had found a way out.

Melinda hadn’t known for sure that was what had been on his mind, but she’d had a feeling. They’d spoken about most other things, but his wife had been one topic she had avoided bringing up, for fear of causing him unnecessary pain.

“Maria… she told me that she died a few years ago.” Melinda had sorted through her memories to recall that conversation a few weeks ago. Maria had been visibly upset one morning, following a day off work, and when Melinda questioned her on it, she told her she had been to the memorial that was held each year. That had been the third one she had been to.

“Did she tell you how?

“She said it was a car accident” Melinda replied quietly.

“True,” he nodded slowly in her peripheral vision. “But it wasn’t exactly an accident as such…it was…I mean…”His words trailed off, as though stolen by the wind, and she turned to see him looking into the distance, a slight frown forming between his eyes.

“Phil, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to” she said quietly, gently resting a gloved hand on his arm without thinking about it.

“No, it’s okay,” he replied, smiling sadly at her. “I need to talk about it more… bottling it up doesn’t help.”

“I understand.”

“Do you mind?”

“No.” She wouldn’t want him to tell her if he didn’t feel it was right, but if he was comfortable about it, then she would leave that decision up to him. “If you want to tell me, you can.”

“I feel like you should know… in case we ever… you know… it’s kind of why I’m so protective over Lola too.”

He sighed, shaking his head slightly, before looking into the distance.

“Audrey, she used to be in the Portland Symphony Orchestra, she played cello. There was this man; he went to all of the shows. At first she was flattered, you know? But then she opened the curtains one night and he was stood outside our house.”

Melinda swallowed, a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold snaking down her spine. She pulled her coat closer with one hand, as though wrapping herself up would protect from his words.

“We called the police, naturally, and they warned him to stay away, but he didn’t. He began stalking her. Then one weekend, she was out with her parents, in the car… from the CCTV recovered, they must have realised he was tailing them a few cars back. Her father pulled out to overtake but…”

Phil swallowed hard and closed his eyes, and Melinda tightened her grip on his arm.

“Audrey was killed on impact, as were both her parents. Just like that, half a family gone.” He shook his head hard, as though clearing the images from his mind. “But somehow,” he continued, taking a deep breath and looking at her again with a small smile. “Through some unknown miracle, Lola survived.”

Melinda gasped, eyes wide in shock.

“She was in the car?! How old was she?”

“Almost three months.”

She sat in stunned silence, not even sure how to comprehend everything he’d told her.

“It hurts that she doesn’t remember her mother,” Phil added quietly, “but at the same time, in a way I’m glad, because…”

“Because memories like that are not something anybody should live with.”

“Exactly.” He looked back at her as he realised the way she spoke suggested she personally knew about haunting memories, but after a few seconds she dropped his gaze and instead watched a group of children playing on the slide across from them. “Anyway,” Phil continued, “I got sick of people looking at me differently in the street, looking at us differently, like we were about to break.”

“That’s why you moved.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry Phil.”

He placed his hand over her own, which was still holding onto his arm, and smiled gently at her. In his expression she could see sorrow, but there was also hope, and she swallowed as his blue eyes seemed to convey every emotion he felt straight into her soul.

“It’s been over four years. It’s time to move on.”

It wasn’t harsh, the way he said it, it was reality. Living in the past did nothing, and he had a daughter to raise the best he could.

For a while, nothing else was said. They sat side by side and just watched other people in the park, letting the crisp afternoon breeze wash around them, sending stray leaves dancing across their feet. At some point, Phil linked their fingers together, and Melinda didn’t stop him.

They walked back to the centre hand in hand.

Melinda told herself it was just to provide him some comfort, support for what he’d been through, but deep inside, she knew it wasn’t.

And that thought both scared and excited her.

* * *

 

_**TEXT:** So, to apologise for depressing you so much today with my tragic backstory, would you let me take you out again, but properly? I’ll be more cheerful, honest! X_

**TEXT:** I guess it depends, if there is no tragic backstory, are you planning to pour more drinks all over me instead? X

_**TEXT:** I’ll try to resist, but I can’t promise anything…. X_  
 ****

**TEXT:** I’ll hold you to that! X

_**TEXT:** Is that a yes? :) X_  
 ****

**TEXT:** That’s a yes Phil. X

_**TEXT:** Great! :) Are you free next Friday night? The 5th? Lola will be at my mother’s... X_

 

Melinda looked down at her phone and thought. Friday Night? He wanted to take her out properly at night. Something told her this wasn’t going to just be a case of a few casual drinks; it was a date. She hadn’t been on a proper date in a long time mainly because she wasn’t very good at them, always running out of things to say or feeling uncomfortable. She could feel the nerves in her stomach bundling together. But this was with Phil, and Phil was nice, he was charming, he was attractive. And they had things in common didn’t they? And the last few times they had met, the conversation had flowed fine. It would be okay. No big deal.

 

 **TEXT:** Should be fine, so, where abouts we going? X

_**TEXT:** There’s this a new Italian opened in the town centre? X_  
 ****

**TEXT:** Sounds good. Let me know a time. X _ **  
**_

_**TEXT:** Will do. I’ll see you next week Melinda :) XX_

 

“What are you smiling at?”

“Nothing” Melinda replied, throwing her phone back onto the sofa beside her and looking up to find her roommate smirking. Natasha had only been back a few days, but already Melinda missed the peace and quiet that was lost every time the Russian made base for a few more weeks.

“Bullshit.”

Natasha glanced from Melinda to the phone and back again, before pouncing forwards to the sofa to grab it. Melinda fought back, not quite sure why she didn’t want Natasha to read her messages, but the Russian was quicker, and she then stood with a grin as she flicked through Melinda’s phone.

“Phil? Who’s Phil?”

“He’s…”

“Oh my God, Phil as in Maria’s brother, Phil??”

Melinda looked back to the television, despite it currently showing nothing but a blank screen, as though nothing else were happening. “Maybe.”

“Does she know?”

“There’s nothing to know, it’s probably just a few drinks.”

“A few drinks? Yeah right. Melinda May is going on a date, a proper date…. have you seen the smile on your face?”

“Shut up Natasha.”

 

 


	3. December (part 1)

**December (part 1)**

The temperature outside fell by an impressive eleven degrees in the space of three days, and by the second of December, it was time to bring out the big guns in terms of winter clothing. Melinda stood in the staff room as she struggled into her warmest coat. It was no mean feat when she was also wearing a long sleeved top, zip-up jacket, and a hoodie underneath it, and Maria watched her out of the corner of her eye, desperately battling the desire to laugh.

“Get that look off your face” Melinda growled, when she saw her friend’s expression. Cold weather didn’t exactly fill her with joy – she much preferred when she could go out in just a jacket and jeans – and her friend’s constant need to cheer her up or poke fun at that fact didn’t exactly help.

“Oh come on Mel, you’re so bundled up you look like a freaking snowman.”

Melinda shot her a _look_ , and she held her hands up in surrender.

“Okay, fine, but you were not this grumpy at the weekend.”

Melinda could have sworn there was a second half to that sentence muttered under her breath, but she couldn’t quite catch it as Maria wrapped a woollen blue scarf around her neck.

“Speaking of,” Maria continued, as the two headed out of the room and towards the main exit. “Everyone has to return for a second fitting in a few months’ time.”

“Great, I’ll look forward to it.”

Maria threw a second glare at her for the sarcastic tone, but didn’t say anything else. She knew full well Melinda had enjoyed Saturday, and Melinda couldn’t deny that herself.

The afternoon sipping champagne in an upmarket dress store, whilst she and the other bridesmaids all worked their way through the selection of gowns Maria had picked out for them, had definitely not been something she ever would have considered to be fun, but surprisingly, Melinda had really enjoyed herself.

In the end, after several hours of changing and twirling and pinning, Maria, and her maid of honour, Pepper, had decided on which dress suited all of them the best – it was admittedly, completely gorgeous, a deep pink silk that hugged their bodies and flowed down to the ground. It had a deep sweetheart neckline, with straps over each shoulder, and Maria had plans for all three bridesmaids to wear their hair down, most likely curled, so as to complete the look.

Melinda had stood in front of the mirror in hers, and for a few moments she was filled with memories from her childhood, feeling as though she were dressing up in something that a young Melinda would have ogled from afar. Once, as a small child, she had returned from school in tears after another girl refused to let her play “kings and queens” with them, because she didn’t want to wear a dress. Her father had sat her on his lap and wiped away her tears, promising her that she would always be his princess, whether she wanted to wear a floaty dress or not. It was one of the only memories she had of him.

“Earth to Melinda!”

She realised she had stopped listening to whatever Maria was saying when her friend stopped on the path outside and stared at her.

“Sorry, what?”

“You were miles away then.”

“Yeah, sorry, what did you say?

“I said,” Maria continued, rolling her eyes in her friend’s direction as they continued walking again. “Did you wanna tell me about how you’re going out with my brother on Friday night?”

It was Melinda’s turn to stop walking, and she glanced over to gauge what her friend’s reaction was going to be. “You know?” It had never meant to be a secret, but she also hadn’t exactly told her, worried what she’d say when she found out.

“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “He actually phoned me to check if I was okay with it, before he asked you out.”

Melinda looked over at her with a small smile. “That’s really sweet.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“So… you don’t mind?”

“No, I mean,” she dragged a hand through her hair. “It’s a bit weird to think about in honesty, because it’s Phil, and it’s you, but no, I don’t mind.”

Melinda had always been good at reading people, able to tell when somebody was lying or was keeping something from her. It probably came from being able to hide her own emotions so well; she’d learnt the tell-tale signs that she knew to hide herself. And right now, she knew Maria wasn’t telling her the truth.

“You’re holding something back.”

“Okay, oh God, I literally cannot believe I’m about to say this” Maria muttered quietly; Melinda could tell she was purposely forcing herself to look into the distance and avoid making eye-contact. “But, can you please not… build his hopes up if you aren’t serious about this?”

“What?”

“Well, I know you, and I know you don’t tend to do relationships, which is fine” she added quickly when she saw the look on Melinda’s face. “I love how free and comfortable you are with your love life. But Phil? He likes commitment, and I just –“

“Maria,” Melinda said, grabbing her friends arm and making her stop walking. “I know I don’t have the best track record when it comes to dating, but just because I prefer to keep things casual sometimes, doesn’t mean I always want to.”

Maria glanced over at her. “And Phil –“

“I like him, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Besides,” she added with a slightly evil grin as they continued walking. “If I just wanted a casual fling with him, we would’ve been fucking weeks ago.”

Maria looked like she was going to throw up.

“I did not want that image in my head.”

* * *

 

Phil downed the last of his drink, and sighed; the intensive four days of conferences and training he’d been through were beginning to take their toll. The beer in the bottle he’d just finished had been almost sweet, a brand he hadn’t tried before, and somehow, it made him think of summer, of relaxing on a beach somewhere without a care in the world.

The reality, however, was very different, as he was currently sheltering from the icy cold outside in a hotel bar, the sound of music humming quietly in the background, and a group of travellers on the next table playing a very loud game of what appeared to be poker.

Sitting next to him however, also finishing up his bottle of beer, was his long-time friend and fellow teacher, Clint Barton. Clint taught PE at the same school as Phil, and he would be forever grateful to the guy for throwing in the recommendation for him that helped secure his teaching position there, only a few days after he and Lola had moved to the area. The two went way back, having shared a dorm room during college, but in recent years had been in contact a lot less. The move therefore would hopefully allow the friendship to recover.

There were a couple of other teaching staff from various other schools and colleges dotted around the area as well, but the table they sat at, was just them two.  

“It’s just…” Phil sighed, running his right hand through his hair and looking down at the now empty bottle in front of him. “She’s one of Maria’s best friends you know? So if I mess this up…”

“What makes you think you’ll mess it up?”

Clint had a great, if sometimes slightly irritating, habit of always looking on the bright side of things. He was able to find a positive in most situations, and could see the good in people when others could not. He was probably the best and worst person that Phil had decided to confide in regarding the worries he had for his date with Melinda the following evening.                                                                                                                                                                 

“I haven’t exactly had a lot of practice in terms of dating recently.”

“Look Coulson, do you have any specific reason to think it won’t go well?” Clint was watching him like a hawk, and Phil knew there was no way out of this conversation now.

“Well –“

“- I mean it’s not like you’ve never met her before, you said you’d been out for coffee a few times?”

“Yeah we have.”

“And she still agreed to this date?”

Phil nodded, still slightly surprised that Melinda had agreed to go out with him again, especially considering the last time they’d met he’d proceeded to give her what felt like his entire life-story. He’d gotten into the car after picking Lola up from her aqua class and proceeded to drop his head into his hands, convinced he’d just screwed everything up. That had been exactly one week ago.

“Then I’d say you’re doing alright.”

“You think?”

“Look I’m no expert on women, but if you go out with her more than once and she still says yes to another date, then she probably likes you.”

Phil glanced over at him, his mind spinning with all the possibilities of what could still go wrong on Friday night. _He could be late. She might not like the restaurant. He could be really boring_.

_He could spill another drink over her…_

Phil’s facial expression must have given away his inner turmoil however, as Barton just shook his head with a small grin, and ordered them in another round.

“It’ll be great Coulson, stop worrying.”

He really hoped Clint was right.

* * *

 

“You be good for grandma, okay?”

Lola was practically dancing across the room with excitement, her hair flying wildly around her face as Phil tried to say goodbye to her. He had a strong feeling his daughter would not be in bed for her usual 7pm routine tonight, despite his mother’s best intentions to have her do so.

“I will!”

She jumped up into his arms as he hugged her goodnight, wrapping her little arms around him and clinging on like a monkey. Phil kissed her on the cheek, before popping her back down onto the floor, her bare feet scrunching into the fluffy carpet that had been fitted only a week before. They were getting there, gradually, and the house was almost complete. The only rooms that needed re-doing now were what would one day hopefully be an office area, and the spare room round the back of the house, but he knew they were not as important as the rest.

He turned to face his mother, who was watching her son fondly as he proceeded to try and straighten out his collar.

“You didn’t have to come down you know, I would have dropped her off at yours?”

“Well, I wanted to see your house now it’s almost done.”

He had a feeling his mother had opted to look after Lola at his place instead of taking her to her own, more for the reason of wanting to interrogate him about his night out when he returned than for seeing how he’d decorated. He knew it was only because she cared; she’d been so happy when he’d mentioned he had a date, insisting that it was about time he found some new happiness, and she’d been even more so when she’d heard it was with one of Maria’s friends that she already knew.

“You think I need the tie?” he asked instead, checking his reflection in the hallway mirror and fiddling with the knot.

“It looks very smart” she replied, a look a pride on her face that Phil had to resist rolling his eyes at.

“Too smart?”

“I don’t know, depends how fancy this place is you’re taking her to.”

He thought about it, but in the end the tie came off, and he left his white button-up shirt with the top button open. It would just be his luck he’d turn up completely over-dressed. He wondered what Melinda would be wearing tonight; he’d only ever seen her in her work clothes and a Halloween costume…

“I’ll be back around ten maybe?”

“Don’t rush on my account” she replied with a knowing smile. “And if you want me out of the way so you can bring her back,” she added quietly, making sure Lola couldn’t hear her, “just text or something and I’ll –“

“- No! ” Phil said quickly, a blush rising to the back of his neck as he grabbed his coat from the bannister. A small part of him felt like reminding her he was thirty-two years old, and this was not a discussion he wanted to have with his mother. “It’s just our first date, okay? I’ll be back around ten.”

“Okay, but if –“

“Bye!”                                                                                                         

* * *

 

Over the various sounds of the restaurant – customers chatting at their respective tables, cutlery working across plates, the clattering and slicing and sizzling coming from the open kitchen – there was music playing, a soft opera that from what Phil could work out, was being performed in Italian. Quite apt. It set a tone for the place, as both classy and yet relaxed, and he was glad he’d decided to remove the tie.

From their position in the room, at a small two-person table in the corner, decorated with a vase containing a singular rose, and crisp crystal wine glasses filled with deep burgundy liquid, they were almost secluded from the gaze of other patrons. The table provided enough privacy that they could talk freely without being overheard, but they could also just see the open kitchen area, and if they so wished, Phil and Melinda could watch the chef hand make each individual course for every customer across the evening.

They were, however, more preoccupied with each other.

Waiters walked around slowly, taking their time and refusing to succumb to the general rush of society. Each diner was encouraged to relax and enjoy their meal, and when a waiter arrived at their table, Phil could do no more than just stare at Melinda whilst she ordered for them both. He seemed to have lost his vocal cords somewhere around the point he picked her up, as she came down the stairs of her building in a skin tight aubergine dress, which hugged into every curve and made him wish they were staying indoors. He wondered if she had bought the dress especially (women did that right?), and wondered if she had made the effort for him alone, or if it had just been something she had in the back of her wardrobe, that she wore each time she went out for a meal.

He hoped for the former.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she told him about bridesmaid dress shopping, and he had to force himself to look at her eyes instead of elsewhere when she sipped on her wine, leaving behind a perfect imprint of her lips against the glass rim. His mind wandered, and he imagined what it would be like if she left that same mark on his skin, time and time again.

Phil wasn’t sure what had happened to him. He knew he liked her, knew full well he thought she was gorgeous. And it was normal to be nervous. But suddenly, the moment they had officially began their first “official” date, he seemed to have multiplied everything from fear to attraction.

Somehow he managed to hold consistent conversations with her, and not make a fool of himself.

He told her how he was starting to work full time, once the New Year came, and she was disappointed they would no longer be able to have their weekly Thursday coffee-shop trips. She chatted about some of her classes, how she taught tai-chi but also practised it in the mornings on her own, and how she’d once tried to teach her roommate – that project failed when it became clear Natasha was definitely not a morning person. 

She promised to teach him, if he wanted, but he was more interested in watching her do it; the idea of her waking him up in the mornings as she rose to practise tai-chi, was something he really hoped to experience one day.

He shared some of his troubles of being a single parent, and trying to raise his daughter alone; she laughed at many of the tales, and sympathised with others, wondering how he had managed to do it. Melinda mentioned her childhood a little, about how she had moved around a lot, and was an only child, telling him what that had been like for her.  Phil explained how it had been living with Maria as the two grew up, always fighting and bickering, but still being friends at the end of it all.

Everything went well, until, at some point in the evening, she absently drifted her fingertips across her upper left chest, the fabric strap of her dress shifting slightly, and Phil could just make out the pale jagged mark on her skin he recognised as a scar. Melinda obviously saw him looking, and she sighed.

“I was walking home from work a few years ago, and there was a man…”

She trailed a finger along the rim of her wine glass, and stared at the burgundy contents, losing herself in memories. “Something felt off about it, I can’t explain how, but when I crossed the road, he crossed as well, and that’s when I realised he was following me.”

“What happened?” Phil asked quietly, not wanting to press her into talking if she didn’t want to, but at the same time knowing she would stop if she decided not to tell him.

“He had a knife.”

Phil felt a sudden build-up of rage in his chest, and had to take a deep breath to calm himself down, swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of somebody even being capable of touching her with a blade. He reached out without even thinking, and took hold of her hand that had been resting on the table in front of her.

“He demanded I give him my phone and my money, and then he wanted my jewellery, but… I said no.”

“You said no?” he asked incredulously. He knew for a fact is someone threatened him with a knife he wouldn’t hesitate to just hand over everything they asked for.

“The necklace I was wearing used to be my grandmothers,” she replied, looking back up to meet his eyes, trying to convey her reasoning. “And something inside of me just…” she shook her head, looking away once more. “Anyway, afterwards, somebody told me I was lucky,” she scoffed at the word, and he knew what she meant by the sound – he’d hardly call anybody who got mugged at knifepoint lucky. “Said I was lucky that I knew how to fight him off. They said if it had been them, they wouldn’t have known what to do.”

“Which is why you teach self-defence” he said, everything slotting into place in his mind.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry Melinda.”

She shrugged, as though brushing it off, like the memories didn’t bother her; he could tell from her expression however, that they did. “I guess we both have tales to tell.”

“Yeah,” he replied sadly. “I guess we do.”

* * *

 

As they left the restaurant, he held the door for her once more. This time, when they walked out, they held hands as they headed towards his car, and she wore his jacket over her dress, wrapped around to keep her warm in the cold winter air.

It was a strange parallel to the first time they were out in an evening together.

When they pulled up outside her block, Phil jumped out to open her door for her, but she got out anyway, rolling her eyes at him as she walked up the stairs. He followed, knowing full well she still had his jacket on; he also had a slight feeling she wanted him to follow her.

When they reached her floor, she stopped, turning to face him with a smile, and Phil swallowed, knowing what would come next.

“Thank you, for tonight” she said quietly, taking a step closer to him. “It was… really lovely.”

“You’re welcome.”

Slowly, Phil made his own movement towards her, reducing the space between them to nothing more than a few inches. She was watching with a small smile, as though waiting for him to take the step they both knew would change their relationship for good. He swallowed again, looking into her eyes, searching for any sign she didn’t want this, but found nothing. Leaning down slightly, he had to smile himself as Melinda rose up onto her tiptoes, moving forwards to join him. He watched her eyelids fluttering as they met halfway, and then he was gone.

His lips brushed against hers softly, almost ghosting over them rather than applying pressure, and he felt something inside of his explode. Phil found her hands, and linked their fingers together, drawing her closer as he began to kiss her properly, alternating between her upper and lower lip.  

They forgot they were stood in a hallway, as they got lost in each other.

As he traced his tongue along her lower lip, Phil could taste the faint hints of sweet chocolate, which he knew was from the dessert she’d devoured earlier, and he could have sworn he heard her make a faint humming sound as he pulled her even closer, pressing their bodies flush together and deepening the kiss.

He couldn’t get enough, and Phil knew he could just stay where they were and kiss her for hours.

Phil could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and wondered briefly if Melinda’s was doing the same, or even if she could feel his own. She unlinked their hands and wrapped her own around his neck, trailing her nails through his hair, and he rested his around her waist, the warmth of her body radiating through her dress as his hands slipped underneath her – or his – jacket.

He knew full well if he didn’t stop and walk out pretty soon, he was going to end up pinning her against her front door and sucking bruises into the soft skin down her neck.

Not that it would be a bad thing, but still…

They were breathless when he finally managed to break away, and, as he rested their foreheads together whilst they caught back up to where they were, Melinda actually giggled slightly; it was the most wonderful sound, and he immediately wanted to hear it again.

“That was –“

“- Yeah.”

They just looked at each other, slightly dazed, wondering why in the hell they hadn’t done that sooner, and how a first kiss could have become so powerful. Phil traced a finger down her jaw, marvelling at the light blush that had crept its way into her cheeks, before placing a final kiss upon her forehead, and turning away before he did something crazy.

He left her standing alone outside of her flat wearing his jacket, and what could only have been described as a slightly abashed smile.

“Goodnight Phil.”

He turned to catch one last glimpse of her, as she unlocked her front door.

“Goodnight Melinda.”

* * *

 

As he drove home, his head swimming with memories of her touch, her scent, and her taste, Phil knew one hundred percent, he was already completely screwed.

* * *

 

“So, how was it?”

Melinda had barely managed to close the door behind her when Natasha’s voice carried out to her from their kitchen area. She took a deep breath, knowing full well she was about to get interrogated like never before, and headed round the corner to face her friend, only to find she was not in there alone.

“Bobbi!”

“Hey Mel, Tash here didn’t think you’d be home this early –“

“- If at all” Natasha mumbled with a smirk.

Melinda rolled her eyes and grabbed a purple fluffy cushion from the sofa as she passed, throwing it at Natasha to shut her up.

“He had to go back and relieve his babysitter” she replied, leaning against the work-surface opposite them, and taking the glass of whatever cocktail the two had concocted that Bobbi offered her.

“So, come on,” Natasha insisted, launching the cushion back towards the sofa. “We want details.”

“Based on that smile,” Bobbi said, with her own grin plastered across her face. “I’d say it was a pretty good night”

“Based on that blush,” Natasha added, barely able to contain her excitement, “I’d say it was a pretty good kiss.”

“It was…really good” she admitted, knowing she wasn’t getting out of this conversation any time soon.

“The night or the kiss?”

“Both, but the kiss especially” she added with a smirk of her own.

Natasha practically squealed with excitement.

“So you’re going out again?”

Melinda nodded, taking a sip of her drink and reeling at how strong it was. From taste, she could only assume it was meant to be a margarita, but when Natasha was in charge of spirits the cocktails produced often contained more alcohol than juice.

“We’re seeing each other on Thursday like usual, and then he’s asked me to go to the Christmas markets in town with them next Saturday.”

“With the kid too?”

“Yeah” she replied, this time biting her lip as she really thought about what was going on.

“Wow, he must really like you” Bobbi said, observing her altered reactions carefully. “I mean, he’s letting you meet his child and everything.”

“Well, I’ve technically already met her a few times.”

“But spending a whole day with her?”

“Hmmm,” Melinda glanced between them with a slightly worried expression, and chewed her lip. “Do you think it’s too soon?”

“Do you?” Natasha asked, watching her from over her glass.

“I…” she trailed off, and looked at the concoction in her glass. In complete honesty, Melinda wasn’t sure how she felt; she hadn’t exactly considered whether it was too quick or not until that moment. But if she was going to be entirely truthful with herself, the fact Phil had a kid hadn’t seemed like an issue until now. Thinking about it properly, she had to ask herself, could she really do this? Get involved in their family?

“You look like you’re panicking” Bobbi said softly, drawing Melinda back into the present again.

“What if this actually works out?” Melinda asked her. “I mean, if it does then –“

“Then you’d better hope the kid likes you.”

“Thanks for that Nat.”

“Look, you’ve known him what?” Bobbi asked. “Two months?”

_“A month and a bit” Melinda replied, draining her glass and setting it on the counter in front of her._

“Well, by that time, Lance and I were already practically living together.”

“Yeah,” Natasha added, grabbing the half-empty bottle of tequila from the fridge and preparing another jug of margaritas. “And we all know how well that worked out.”

“Hey, we’re back together now!”

“For like the fifth time!”

“Anyway!” Bobbi said loudly, ignoring Natasha’s continued jabs. “What I’m saying is, how fast you move things depends on what feels right for you. I mean, some couples don’t sleep together until they’re married, but others do on the first date.”

“Ah Yoda, your wisdom astounds us all.”

“Shut up Nat.”

Melinda laughed. She loved spending time with the girls, and it wasn’t very often Bobbi and Natasha were free on the same night, especially given Bobbi’s career, so evenings like this were ones she appreciated more than any other. However, she was determined to get the conversation away from her for a while. “How’s work Bobbi?”

Luckily, Bobbi took the bait.

“Oh you know, same old same old.”

“Still plenty of criminals to catch?”

“Yep. It never gets boring, that’s for sure, I mean, there was this one woman last week who tried to get out of a murder charge by saying she’d been hypnotised into committing the crime…”

The rest of the evening was spent coming up with the most creative methods they could possibly imagine to get out of a murder charge, with Bobbi running as jury seeing as she knew the law better than the two of them. They consumed far more margaritas than Melinda thought possible, and by 2am, the tequila was gone. After a lot of laughter, and multiple failed attempts to get her to leave, Bobbi ended up crashing on the sofa as the other two headed to bed.

Even in her hazy consciousness however, the last thing Melinda thought about before her head hit the pillow, was Phil, and the way he’d kissed her in the hallway like he never wanted to let her go. She could really get used to that.

And she hadn’t really wanted to let him go either.

* * *

 

The following Saturday came around a lot quicker than Melinda realised it would, and before she knew it, she was stood at the entrance to the Christmas markets bundled into her winter coat and bobble hat, waiting for Phil and Lola to arrive. She was nervous, she had to admit that, but it was a different type of nerves than those she’s had the previous week.

When they arrived, she was greeted by a very excitable four year old, wearing the fluffiest pink coat Melinda had ever seen, and who was dragging Phil along as though they were going to be late to a party. He smiled when he saw her however, and hugged her with one arm, and Melinda found herself wishing more than anything she could lean up and kiss him again. But she didn’t; Lola was watching, and she thought they’d just come to the market with “one of dad’s friends”, so they left it at that.

They could keep their hands off each other for one afternoon, surely.

The huge Christmas tree in the centre of the market must have been almost fifty feet high, and was covered in thousands of colourful baubles, each sparkling in the afternoon sun. The lights wouldn’t be turned on until it went dark, but even without them it was a spectacular sight. There was a choir of carol singers stood by the side, and the crowds all clapped each time they finished an angelic harmony of “The Holly and The Ivy”, or “Oh Little Town of Bethlehem”. Lola pushed her way to the front of the crowd to watch, enchanted by the whole experience, and Phil took Melinda’s hand as they stood and waited for her to lose interest. They knew they couldn’t be too obvious today, not until he spoke to Lola about what was going on, but just that simple act was enough to make Melinda smile up at him.

Later that afternoon, Phil took Lola into the grotto to see Santa, and Melinda wandered around the stalls whilst they went inside. She was determined not to get in the way of their family moments, and when Lola had asked if she could go inside to “talk to Father Christmas and his elves”, Melinda had insisted they went together, just the two of them.

Phil and Lola caught her up whilst she browsed stalls in the craft section, one in particular catching her eye that was selling individual hand-crafted snow globes, each depicting a tiny winter or Christmas scene within its glass dome. They were not toys, definitely more ornamental, and as they walked away, Phil made a mental note to go back to the stall on his own at a later date.

As they wandered around, they found themselves in the large food and drink area, large wooden cabins in every direction, smoke pouring from the chimneys above them; each offered a different creation to try, from the traditional mulled wine that adults were flocking to, to giant hot dogs fried with onions and drizzled with mustard that smelled amazing. Phil bought himself and Melinda freshly baked crepes, covered in lemon and sugar, and Lola snacked on a strawberry kebab slathered in warm melted chocolate, which she proceeded to get all over her face.  

Phil tried to clean her up whilst she wriggled out of his grasp, determined to not let her dad ruin her messy fun, and Melinda laughed at the pouty face she gave him when he finally succeeded.

Lola skipped along, hand in hand with Phil, excitedly pointing out various colourful stalls that caught her eye. She particularly enjoyed one filled with freshly baked biscuits and cakes, the sweet scent of sugar and spice surrounding them as Phil picked her up to take a closer look. Melinda purchased a bag of three star-shaped gingerbread biscuits, decorated with silver balls and white piped icing, and – after checking it was okay with Phil – gave the whole lot to Lola to enjoy.

It was easily worth it to see her face light up as she looked up in disbelief.

“Consider it an early Christmas present.”

“What do you say Lola?” Phil asked, smiling at the two of them interacting so easily.

“Thank you Melinda” Lola replied, beaming with happiness as she proceeded to then get crumbs all over the front of her pink fluffy coat.

“You’re welcome.”

At some point during the early evening, as they wandered back from the markets and towards the local restaurant Phil had promised Lola they would visit for tea, it began to snow, powdered ice drifting down from the sky and decorating everything in a soft blanket of pure white. Lola danced around in the street, trying to catch individual flakes on her tongue as she twirled, and Phil observed happily as his daughter ran around ahead of them, the cold winter air colouring her cheeks a light, rose pink. Melinda walked by Phil’s side, quietly watching the two of them interacting under the glow of the streetlights, and a small smile traced across her face. He glanced over and took her hand again with a gentle squeeze, linking their fingers together and stroking his thumb across her palm as they walked.

The meal that night was different to the one Phil and Melinda shared a week earlier. This time there was a four year old at the table with them, getting tomato sauce all over her face and eating pizza with her fingers. Phil bought Lola ice-cream for dessert, strawberry flavoured and covered in rainbow sprinkles, and she happily slurped away on it, oblivious to the fact her dad couldn’t keep his eyes off their companion.

* * *

 

Phil insisted upon calling her a taxi to take her back to her own flat, despite her protests that she would be fine walking. She knew he was worried, especially after what she’d told him about her past, but Melinda had spent long enough being afraid of the outside world; nowadays, she just grit her teeth and fought it.  

“I’ll be fine” she insisted. “It’s only a ten minute walk.”

“Are you always so stubborn?” he asked her, shaking his head a little as he spoke.

She grinned up at him. “Yeah, usually.”

“Great.”

He mock sighed, and Melinda couldn’t help herself. Checking Lola wasn’t watching them, she leaned up, capturing his lips with her own, kissing him like she had been dying to do since the moment she had last seen him.

She was slightly conscious of the fact Lola was upstairs, currently getting ready for bed, so she resisted wrapping her arms around his neck like she had the last two times. Until now, throughout the day they had both been ultra-careful with their gestures, not really wanting Lola to see anything until Phil had spoken to her properly, and explained what was happening with he and Melinda.

But even they hadn’t really discussed that themselves yet.

“You know,” he murmured breathlessly, after breaking away from her lips for long enough speak. “You could always stay?”

He spoke his words softly into her hair, caressing his thumbs across her palms as the sound of running water upstairs signalled Lola brushing her teeth.

“Phil…” she said quietly, gently leaning her forehead against his shoulder as she spoke.

“I mean, nothing has to happen,” he added quickly, before she could continue. “I just mean, if you didn’t want to go home yet… and we have an extra bedroom if you wanted…”

Melinda knew full well what would happen if she stayed, even if she told herself it was with the intention of sleeping in their ‘guest room’. And she had a pretty strong feeling he knew that as well. But despite how much she wanted – and needed – to say yes, she shook her head. “I think we need to take this slow… for Lola’s sake.”

She was expecting him to feel dejected, to tell her it was fine, and then she’d leave and maybe not hear from him again. That was usually the pattern when she chose to go home alone rather than spend the night with someone. Instead, he lifted a hand and tilted her face up with his fingertips, before bringing his lips to meet hers in a gentle kiss.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being the only person I’ve gone out with in almost five years to put her first.”

As she tried to come up with a response, his daughter appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in a matching set of pink stripy pyjamas, and holding on to a large white bear. Phil and Melinda stepped away from each other subtly as Lola looked down at them.

“Daddy, can I have a bedtime story?”

“Which one would you like?”

“Can I have the one with dragons tonight?”

Phil glanced at Melinda, who nodded at him, encouraging him to go to her; she wasn’t going to stop their family routine.

“Of course princess. You go climb into bed, and I’ll be right up.”

As she sat in the taxi back to her flat, just over ten minutes later – yes, Phil won that argument – Melinda couldn’t take her mind off their day. It had been almost perfect, and despite the slight pang she felt, wishing she had stayed when Phil had asked, she knew full well it had been the right decision. His daughter would need to come first, and any development they made with their current relationship, really could not be rushed.

Later that night, after Natasha had sat down with a bottle of cheap beer and proceeded to interrogate her about every little detail of her day, when she climbed into bed, wrapping herself in the purple silk sheets, Melinda was filled with a warmth that left her smiling to herself, long after she’d closed her eyes.


	4. December (part 2)

**December (part 2)**

Being a single dad meant Phil spent most of his free time with Lola, so Christmas shopping for her was a slight problem; it had to fit into the few occasions he wasn’t working or looking after her. Therefore, despite the manic crowds Christmas Eve brought out into the streets, that was exactly where Phil found himself on December 24th. Lola was spending the afternoon with “Grandma Anne” and “Auntie Maria”, in something Maria had termed a “girlie day of Christmas chaos” (much to Lola’s excitement and Phil’s anxiety), but it was really a cover provided to give him a chance to ensure he had everything ready for Christmas Day.

He did not however, spend the entire day alone. After shopping across the morning for various last-minute items for both his daughter and other relatives, Phil arrived at a small Mediterranean restaurant down a less-chaotic backstreet with a smile, as he found Melinda waiting outside for him. 

She’d called a few days earlier, asking if he would like to go out sometime over the Christmas period together, and when he’d suggested Christmas Eve, she had agreed happily. They were both spending the 25th with their respective families, so this was their last chance to see each other for a while.

They exchanged kisses instead of presents.

The inside of the restaurant was cosy, and a lot more relaxed than the Italian they had been to on their date. As they sat at their table, they ordered half a bottle of white wine, and courses of the pasta special. The fairy-lights twinkled all around the room, hung like vines from the ceiling above them. Christmas songs played in the background, but quietly enough that the sound blended into the general murmurs coming from each table, every patron enjoying the peace found compared to being in the hustle and bustle of the street outside.

They ate, drank, laughed and smiled.

Phil fell harder with every passing minute.

When it came to paying the bill, despite Phil’s protests, Melinda insisted it was on her.

“Consider it your Christmas present,” she said, grinning slightly as she handed her card over to the waiter, who was watching their exchange with amusement.

“You don’t have to.”

“Well I am.”

When they left, it was she who took his hand whilst they walked.

They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the high street, absorbing the Christmas atmosphere around them. The crowds swarmed past in a daze, people carrying shopping bags and wrapped in winter clothing. There was a choir on a street corner, but Phil decided they weren’t as good as those from the market.

He had to return to pick Lola up at six, but he needed to get her gifts home and wrapped before he could do that, so at around four pm, Phil apologised to Melinda, but said he would have to go. He drove her to her flat, and once again, he walked her in.

When she got to her front door, she turned around to find him pulling something out of his coat pocket, and she watched in confusion as he held it out to her.

“This is for you, for tomorrow” he murmured, handing over a perfectly wrapped box, tied off with a silver ribbon, just big enough to sit on her hand.

“Phil!” Melinda said, looking at him with wide eyes. “We said no presents!”

He grinned sheepishly, dragging his spare hand through his hair. “I know we did, but I couldn’t resist.”

She shook her head with a slight frown. “See, now I feel terrible because I actually believed you when you said no gifts.”

“Hey, we just had an amazing meal which you paid for,” Phil said, smiling at her despite her frown. “You really didn’t have to do that” he added quietly, taking her free hand with a squeeze.

“A meal isn’t the same as a physical gift.” She shook her head again before sighing. “Well, I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

She really didn’t, but Phil was interested in what she had planned. “Oh yeah? How?”

She took a step towards him, and he grinned, now knowing exactly what she had in mind.

“How about this?”

With that she leaned up, and gently pressed her lips to his, letting her free hand unlink with his, reaching up to caress his cheek and jaw.  

Like Phil had wanted to do the last time they had been stood outside of her flat, he backed her slowly against the front door, and wrapped his hands around each of her hips, pulling them towards him. Melinda leaned her head back against the wood as he kissed her deeper, eliciting a soft, contented moan when she felt his tongue tracing her lower lip. As she opened up for him completely, letting him explore her mouth with a gentle groan, she trailed her other hand up his arm, joining them together around  the back of his neck, and stroking her fingers through the short hairs at the base of his skull.

So much for taking things slow.

Admittedly, her attention was elsewhere in that moment, but a slight shuffling sound behind her, followed by a click, made her realise milliseconds too late what was about to happen.

Before she could react, the door swung open, and Melinda fell backwards, dragging Phil with her as they stumbled through the doorway, cursing colourfully.

Melinda regained her balance just before hitting the floor, and stood back up to come face-to-face with Natasha, wearing nothing more than a black vest top and tiny striped shorts, and grinning at the two of them as though it was the best day of her life.

“You are so dead” Melinda growled at her, and Phil, despite the slight pink hue that had crept up his neck, had to stifle a laugh at the venom in her voice.

“What?” Natasha asked innocently. “I thought I’d help you in… clearly you were struggling to find your keys.”

“Bullshit” Melinda whispered under her breath.

“Although I guess you found something else.” Natasha nodded at Phil with a wink, ignoring Melinda’s indignant spluttering completely. “I assume you must be Phil, the brother of her best friend that she is, I quote, “kind of” dating,” she turned to look at Melinda, cocking her head to the side feigning intrigue. “Unless this is a different one I don’t know about?”

Melinda muttered something unintelligible – he was pretty sure they were more death threats – and Phil had to turn to biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself laughing. He nodded in response.

“Yeah, you must be Natasha?”

“That’s me” she replied happily, giving him a cheerful smile. “Anyway, I’m only joking,” she said, continuing as though Melinda wasn’t even there. “She likes you, you know? I catch her smiling every time you text… she doesn’t do that much.”

“Did you want to survive tonight?” Melinda threatened.

Natasha held her hands up in mock surrender, although the evil glint remained in her eyes as she continued to smile at them, perfect white teeth reflecting the hallway light.

“Alright, alright,” she conceded. “I’ll go. It was nice to meet you Phil,” she added, before turning and heading back into the apartment, leaving the door wide open and Melinda and Phil alone in the hallway, wondering about the red-headed hurricane that had just swept through, leaving destruction in her path.

“Kind of dating are we?” he teased after a moment, linking his fingers back through hers and pulling Melinda around to face him.

“She is so dead to me.”

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Do me a favour and don’t actually kill her?” Phil murmured softly, as the sounds of what seemed to be the opening credits to a movie, started up from inside the apartment. “What with it being Christmas and everything, I’d rather not have to bail you out.”

Melinda glanced back up at him with an exaggerated sigh. “I really can’t promise anything.”

He smiled at that, and kissed her again.

They broke apart only when the sounds of Natasha wolf-whistling resonated out of the door. By the look of death on Melinda’s face, Phil was almost glad he was leaving.

* * *

“Daddyyyyy!”

Phil awoke with a grunt as his four year old launched herself on top of him, completely oblivious to anything else besides her excitement. Phil peeled his eyes open, and watched Lola grinning happily at him from the spare pillow she was now sat cross-legged on. Her fair hair was flying all over the place, making her look slightly like she’d been electrocuted, and her tiny hands were tightly gripped hold of the knitted stocking that had been hung on her bedroom door the evening before.

Phil decided to play with her a little more, and pretended to go back to sleep, snoring loudly over her cries of joy.

“Daddy wake up!” She nudged him again and he opened his eyes once more. “He came! Santa came!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Look!”

He finally forced himself to sit up, rubbing his eyes blearily and watching bemusedly as she turned the stocking upside down, proceeding to empty it across his bed.

Phil was very glad that he – or _Father Christmas,_ as she believed – hadn’t put anything precious in there, especially given how much she was shaking it trying to get the last present out; anything remotely fragile would have been broken within seconds.

He turned the radio on, letting the sound of Christmas songs filter through the room, and for the next ten minutes Phil just watched as Lola happily opened all of her miniature gifts. She squealed with excitement over a pair of Iron Man socks, and giggled at the glittery soap shaped like a mermaid. The two of them shared a bag of white chocolate coins as the next song played, and through the slim gap in the curtains, Phil could see it had snowed overnight; he knew Lola would be thrilled.

Christmas morning had always been just the two of them. Audrey had never seen a Christmas with Lola as a baby, and that thought made Phil more determined than ever to make sure their daughter had an a amazing day every year. She deserved it, and it would be what her mother would have wanted (although she would have said less chocolate, but Phil wasn’t going to succumb to that).

A little while later and they headed downstairs, and Lola’s face when she saw that there were more presents under their Christmas tree filled Phil with joy. Phil made her a mug of hot chocolate, and himself a coffee, and he helped her open her main presents.

“And this is from Melinda,” he said, reaching to the back of the tree and pulling out a gift wrapped in blue shiny snowflake paper - different to all the others.

“But Melinda got me biscuits at the market.”

“I know,” he smiled, loving how she remembered Melinda’s quip about them being a gift. “But she bought you this as well.”

Phil watched as she took the present from him curiously, almost slightly shyly, as though she wasn’t sure if it was okay to accept a second gift from Melinda. But her expression turned to one of delight when she pulled the metallic paper off, and revealed a set of plastic pink gingerbread cutters, each in a different novelty shape.

“I can make my own!”

“Yes you can.” He grinned, making a mental note to call Melinda as soon as he got a chance – she really didn’t need to have bought Lola anything, but the fact she had was a beautiful gesture in itself, especially considering she’d only really met her properly once. “You’ll have to see if she’ll help you,” he added, without even thinking about it. Suddenly the image of the two girls baking together, bonding and laughing and getting to know each other, was one that would not leave his head.

“Yeah!”

He watched her open the last few presents, helping her to unstick the sellotape that threatened to frustrate her when it attached itself to her fingers, and desperately attempting to keep some kind of order to the room when she decided to take multiple things out of their boxes at the same time.

He pulled her onto his knee against her protests, and pressed a kiss into her hair. “Happy Christmas princess.”

Later that morning, Phil promised her pancakes, so whilst Lola was on the phone with her grandmother, excitedly relaying the list of gifts she had received – including some new story books, a stuffed dragon toy with sparkly wings, and plenty of chocolate – he headed off towards the kitchen and set about preparing his daughter’s favourite meal. It was a treat, pancakes, one he only made for special occasions such as this, birthdays, and maybe when she was upset. Despite her only being four, she still knew which mornings meant they would share a stack of them however, and the smile as she saw Phil cooking them was always worth it.

Soon enough, after apparently exhausting herself with conversation of Christmas morning, Lola wandered into the kitchen to join him, having hung up the phone on her own already. She clambered up onto one of the chairs at the dining table, and proceeded to watch him flip the pancakes over in the frying pan, cheering and giggling when he succeeded and failed. Before long, there was a stack of pancakes on the plate waiting for them, and Phil grabbed a squeezy-bottle of chocolate sauce from the cupboard on his way to join her at the table.

Ten minutes later, and the only trace evidence remaining of the breakfast they had shared was the sticky chocolate sauce smeared all over Lola’s face. Phil wasn’t sure how she was such a messy eater – he wasn’t, nor had Audrey been – but he still found it completely adorable how she turned every meal into a way of being creative with her food.

Their afternoon was spent at his mother’s house, as Christmas day had been for him every year of his life. They were joined, as usual, by Steve and Maria, who lamented Lola with yet more presents. She really was a lucky girl, and they all doted on her, but Phil was thankful that she never acted spoiled at all. His mother bought her a new costume for her swim class, patterned with fish scales so she could feel like a mermaid in the water. Maria and Steve bought her a paint set, complete with brushes and sponges and everything she could need to create an even bigger mess than she already usually made. Lola was thrilled; Phil was less so. But the grin on Maria’s face as she whispered to her niece to “decorate the walls” earned her a glare. Steve rolled his eyes at them both, and Anne told them to sit down and stop behaving like teenagers, and everybody ate the most amazing Christmas dinner of their lives.

Anne Coulson really knew how to cook.

Afterwards there was Christmas pudding and cake, ice cream, tea and coffee, and biscuits, and before long they were all sat in front of the television, completed sated, and very happy. Lola watched the screen avidly, the adventures of a green monster who hated Christmas capturing her attention wholly, and Steve sat cross legged on the carpet next to her, wearing the paper crown he had won out of a cracker, and explaining the parts she didn’t understand. Maria watched fondly as he chatted with his “niece”, and felt a strange and unfamiliar flutter of hope in her chest, that maybe one day he could be like that with their own children. She’d never considered herself maternal, so the thought shocked her slightly, but as she let the ideas mull about a little more, she realised maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if they did have a family of their own.

But after the wedding, of course. Her dress was already chosen and ordered, and there was no way in hell she was planning to get it taken out in order to fit in a baby bump. Definitely not.

Phil and his mother sat on the opposite sofa to Maria, and spoke quietly about how he’d settled into his new life. She asked how his job was going, and he ranted slightly about the amount of books he still had to get marked over the Christmas holidays. It was a good thing he was going in full time as of January, but it meant he could no long spend Thursdays with Lola. Anne would take her to aqua class from now on, and would continue having her on Fridays too, and Phil thanked her for what felt like the millionth time for being so willing to help. She insisted it was no bother at all, and that she loved her granddaughter for keeping her feeling so young.

As the light outside faded, and another lot of snow began to fall, the flickering fairy-lights draped across the tree became the only source of light in the room, but nobody rose to turn on a lamp. It felt cosy, and festive, and just what Christmas should feel like, and before long the movie had ended, and Lola was curled up on the sofa, asleep leaning against Maria’s knee.

Inevitably, as he knew at some point it would, Phil’s mother asked him why he hadn’t brought Melinda to dinner with him. At the mention of her name, Phil practically saw Maria’s attention prick up, and knew full well she was listening to their conversation, despite pretending to be reading a book over Steve’s shoulder. He could have rolled his eyes again, but there was no point, so he just took a gulp of his coffee, before telling her that Melinda had gone to her own mother’s house.

“Have you met her mother?” Anne asked quietly, watching her son with an expression of curiosity.

Phil shook his head. “No, in honesty I don’t even know where she lives; Melinda doesn’t talk about her much.”

“She lives out in the middle of nowhere in this massive fancy house,” Maria piped up, not looked over but confirming Phil’s thoughts she had been listening.

“Have you been?”

Maria finally turned to face him, giving up on her pretence completely. “No, but she’s talked about it a bit.”

“You met her mother?”

“Yeah, twice, both times at Mel’s flat. She’s….” Maria flustered around for the right word, obviously trying to be complimentary but truthful. “She’s nice, but kind of strict, if that makes sense?”

Phil swallowed. “Strict how?”

“Oh you know,” she gestured with her cup wildly, almost waking Lola in the process. “Traditional. Tiger mom. Ambitious plans for her only daughter. Wanted Mel to have a career in medicine or law or something. Makes her talk in Mandarin when they are together –“

Phil didn’t even know Melinda spoke Mandarin.

“ – Oh, and she probably won’t approve of you,” Maria added cheerfully. Seeing the expression of anxiety forming on his face however, she stopped, and after Anne shook her head exasperatedly at Maria’s jibing, Maria looked back to Phil.

“I’m joking, you know?”

“Yeah.”

She could tell her words had genuinely caused him worry, and Maria realised why he’d taken it to heart.

“You really like her, don’t you?” she asked quietly, all trace of mocking gone from her voice.

Phil looked down into the last dregs of his now-cold coffee, before telling her the truth. “Yeah,” he replied, smiling weakly back at his sister. “I do.”

His mother laid a hand on his arm, and as he glanced from her supportive smile, to his sound asleep daughter who was drooling on her aunt’s knee, and back to Maria again, who was now talking in hushed tones with Steve, he wondered how different, or similar, his life would be, this time next year.

* * *

Melinda looked around the room, and smiled slightly. Her mother had never been fully on-board with the whole Westernised culture of Christmas, but over the years there were many small details from it that had wound their way into her home.

In the far corner of the dining room, stood a small fibre-optic tree, with a singular star poised upon the top; the tips of branches glowing white light. Along the windowsills, were collections of red scented candles, lit and flickering in the dimming afternoon light, filling the room with a warm spiced cinnamon smell. The occasional glass ornament decorated the sideboards and fireplace, from a perfectly crafted robin on the coffee table, to the crystal snowman that resided next to the television each year. Outside the window, snow was falling, and despite the lack of cheesy songs or tinsel or fairy-lights, to Melinda, this felt like Christmas.

It wasn’t the festive house that everyone else she knew celebrated in, but to Melinda, it was home.

“What are your friends doing today?”

Her mother’s question brought her back to the present, and Melinda found her mother watching her carefully, as she served a second helping of steamed noodles onto her plate.

“Natasha has travelled back to Russia to visit her sister. Bobbi is on call, I think. And Maria is with her family.”

“So they are not alone.”

“No Mama, they are not alone.”

Melinda knew full well that if she had even dared to let one of her friends spend Christmas Day on their own, without offering an invitation to join them, she would be in serious trouble with her mother; Melinda was well aware her mother would see to it that nobody they knew spent the holiday period alone.

The two of them consumed their dinner together in quiet, an occasional question directed at the other cutting through the silence of the house. It was peaceful, as her mother’s house always was, and Melinda had never been sure exactly how that was achieved; despite living alone for several years after she had moved out, she had never been able to garner the same aura of calm that filled her old family home.

Once the main meal had been eaten and cleared away, Melinda set about pouring the tea, and they sat again in comfortable silence, until her mother spoke.

“Qiao Lian,” her mother lowered her cup from her lips, placing it back onto the saucer in front of her, the china pieces clinking together in the silence of the house. “You are keeping something from me.”

“Excuse me?” Melinda wasn’t sure how her mother did it; no matter what she said or did not say, if there was something she had not shared with her, whether intentionally or not, Tian May seemed to possess an extra sense that afforded her that knowledge, and she would ask her daughter about it until told.

“There is something happening in your life right now, something which you are keeping quiet.”

“I…”

“Is it a man?”

Melinda sighed, looking back up to meet her mother’s gaze, and nodded. She knew her too well, and was the only person who could really see through her when she was not revealing the entire truth. But she still wondered how on earth she could have worked that out based on their previous conversation.

“Yes, Mama.”

“You are in a relationship.”

Her mother looked happy with that, and she really should have kept her mouth closed, but Melinda’s next words slipped out regardless. “Well, only sort of.”

Her mother frowned slightly. “You either are in a relationship or you are not.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Love usually is.”

“I don’t…” she shook her head. “It isn’t that serious.”

“Yet.”

She had no response to that. Despite how both she and Phil had agreed that, for Lola’s sake, they would take their relationship slowly, something deep down inside of Melinda was already building up to the idea that one day, it could potentially be something more than just _casual._ And that scared her.

Her mother was watching her think, already able to tell there was something else behind her words. Tian had a softer edge to her voice in her next words.

“Speak, Qiao Lian.”

Melinda sighed again. “I like him, Mama, I do. But it is complicated. He has a child, and I –“

“– And you do not wish to be a step-mother, is that it?”

“No, it’s not that – “

“– Is the child’s mother still around?”

“No, she died a several years ago.”

“Is he still in love with her?”

Melinda was beginning to feel like she was attached to a relationship lie detector, with questions being fired at her constantly regarding every detail of her love life.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Have you met the child?”

“Yes.”

“And you like them?”

“Yes.” The speed in which Melinda answered her mother’s final question almost surprised her. She did like them, she realised, she liked them a lot. Lola was a great kid, who definitely took after her father, and Phil was… well, Phil was great. She smiled slightly as the memories of the previous evening came back to her.

“Then there is no problem.”

“If it became serious…” she admitted, chewing her lip as she spoke, “then it’s a big responsibility.” Melinda realised, that for the first time she was expressing out loud just how much the idea, that despite how much she did like them, one day being a more prominent figure in both of their lives left her feeling both afraid and nervous. And maybe a little bit excited.

“Yes, Qiao Lian,” Tian agreed, watching her daughter carefully and giving a small nod. “It is a responsibility. And you must not mess him around, for the child’s sake.

“I know that,” she replied, a small blush rising to her cheeks. Her mother – thankfully – didn’t know the half of her chequered relationship history, but Tian May still seemed aware that her daughter did not have the best track record when it came to dating. “I wouldn’t do that to him.”

“Then there is nothing to stop you,” her mother finished, rising from the table, and reaching out to pat Melinda’s hand softly, before heading towards the lounge area, leaving  her daughter alone with her thoughts. That was one of the things growing up in a household with just the two of them in had provided; they each knew when the other required a period of solace and calm, even if it were for ten minutes.

Melinda spent the next half hour clearing the kitchen of crockery, pans and cutlery, before sorting and placing the left-over food into various Tupperware boxes, labelling them in Mandarin – her mother liked her to use the language often, saw it as practise – before stacking them neatly into the fridge.  When she was done, and the room looked once more as though there had not been an explosion of food and flavour only a few hours before, she headed in to join her mother, who was reading a book in her favourite armchair. Melinda took a seat on the sofa across the room, curling herself into the same plush red cushions she had sat upon as a child, and grabbed her e-reader from the table next to her. She let herself get lost in the words of another world for a while, as a new fall of snow drifted across the window.

“Who is he?”

Melinda glanced up, but Tian did not appear to have stopped reading. She knew what her mother meant though; the years had also resulted in an ability to continue conversations that had been finished hours earlier, as though nothing had happened in the period in between.  And knowing her mother, and the connections she still had from her days working for the government, Melinda had a feeling Tian would probably run some kind of background check on him as soon as she left, despite being retired.

“His name is Phil.”

“Phil.”

“He’s Maria’s older brother.”

Her mother nodded, as though that was an acceptable answer to her, but still did not raise gaze to meet her daughter’s.

“I always liked Maria.”

* * *

By the time New Year’s Eve arrived, Melinda was missing Phil much more than she really wanted to admit. She’d spent almost the whole week following Christmas with her mother, and when she had returned on the 30th, Phil had been out with Lola already. But she took pleasure in knowing he’d missed her too, because when he opened his front door to welcome her to the party, they’d ended up standing in the driveway kissing until a not-so-subtle cough from Maria dragged them back inside.

Phil and Maria were jointly hosting, although it was being held at Phil’s house, as according to Maria, it could double as a housewarming party too; Melinda had a strong feeling however it was more likely to be because it would mean she didn’t have to tidy her own house the following day, once all the guests had left.

The house was still decorated for Christmas, but as Melinda walked through the front door, the atmosphere inside definitely shouted “New Year”. All around were people chatting and laughing and drinking, and she felt almost overwhelmed by the fact that technically she was stepping into Phil’s life tonight. 

There were people everywhere she had never met; groups of people that all acknowledged Phil as he passed, and some who smiled at Melinda too when they saw the two together, but the majority of people were strangers to her.  Passing the front room however she received a wave and smile from Steve, who was talking to a guy who glanced from Melinda and back to Phil with a grin.

“Hey,” the guy called out, walking towards the two of them. “You must be Melinda.”

“Yeah,” she smiled.

“Clint” he said, holding a hand out for her to shake, despite the strangeness of the gesture in such an informal setting. “Phil here’s said a lot about you.”

She turned to glance at Phil, who, to his good grace, was looking slightly awkward, and currently shooting a look at Clint that told him to be quiet.

“What’ve you been saying?” Melinda teased, watching him with a slight smile.

“Only good things, I promise.”

“Really?”

“Mmhhmm.” He nodded, turning back at Clint for support.

Clint grinned and waved it off with a wink. “He’s right, all good things; actually you’re all he’s spoken about for weeks now.”

This time Phil really did look like he wanted him to shut up. Melinda had a strange feeling Clint would get on very well with Natasha; the two seemed like enjoy winding their friends up.

* * *

Melinda found Maria in the kitchen with her mother, and as soon Melinda walked in, Anne greeted her like an old friend.

“Hello Melinda,” Anne exclaimed, smiling warmly and pulling her into a hug as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. “Did you have a lovely Christmas?”

Maria rolled her eyes in the background and grinned.

“See Mel, you’re part of the family now.”

Melinda smiled as Phil squeezed her hand, and she took the drink Maria handed her.

It would be fine. Everything would be fine.

* * *

Later on in the evening, after Phil had joined some work friends outside, and Maria had returned to Steve’s side, Melinda wandered into the back room to find Lola in there on her own, watching a cartoon on television. She was surprised the girl was awake still at this time, but had to assume it was an exception due to New Year.

In fairness, there wasn’t any loud music playing or anything, and most people seemed to be outside in the back garden in some kind of gazebo, meaning that if Lola did decide to go to bed, she wouldn’t really be disturbed by the noise anyway.

“Hey kid,” she smiled, dropping herself down onto the sofa next to her.

“Melinda!”

“You have a nice Christmas?”

Lola nodded happily. “Yeah, me and daddy made pancakes.”

Melinda chuckled. Out of the whole week of Christmas that had just been, the fact she picked food out as the best part was awesome. “Wow, I bet they were nice.”

“Daddy makes the best pancakes ever!” Lola threw her arms in the air, as though to explain how good they really were, and Melinda laughed. “He puts chocolate sauce on them.”

“Sounds yummy.”

“He said I should say thank you for the cutters.” She turned to Melinda with a solemn expression on her face. “Thank you.”

“It’s alright,” Melinda smiled. “You done any baking yet?”

“Not yet, he thinks you should help me.”

“Does he now?” Melinda glanced out of the window, and watched Phil with a small smile. He was laughing about something with one of his friends, holding a bottle of beer, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him so relaxed.  It was nice.

“Yeah.”

Lola turned back to the television, allowing herself to become re-immersed in the cartoon characters dancing on the screen for a while. Melinda stayed with her, happy to remain indoors and away from the chill of December air outside – she could do busy social occasions when she had to, but she drew the line at standing in the cold for several hours waiting for midnight.

“Melinda?”

“Mmmm?”

“Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?”

Melinda nearly choked on her drink, as Lola looked at her curiously.

“I…” she flailed slightly, not sure what Phil had told her, and not wanting to step on his toes in doing so. She settled for the safer option. “Well, what has your dad said?”

Lola shrugged. “He said he likes you, and yesterday he asked if I like you, and I do,” she smiled, twirling her plait around in her fingers. “And then I saw you both kissing outside –“

_Damn._

“– And grandma once told me that the people in my films kiss when they love each other.”

“Well…” Melinda was lost for words, but as Phil was not present and there to rescue her, she had no choice but to go on with the conversation. “Your dad and I, we like each other a lot.”

Lola nodded, clearly accepting of that answer. “I heard Auntie Maria tell Uncle Steve that you both should get a room.” She frowned, and Melinda almost choked again. “Do you not have one? There is one here that nobody uses if you want it.”

Despite making a mental note to kill Maria at some point in the evening, Melinda couldn’t help but adore the innocence of Lola’s comment.

“I have one, but thank you.”

“Okay… do you want a biscuit?”

* * *

When Phil finally rescued her, Melinda had been slightly relieved.

“What did she ask you?” he said, as the two wandered out into the back garden, leaving Lola with her grandmother. The cool evening air whipped around them, and she immediately wished she had brought a coat – instead she moved closer to Phil.

“She gave me a thorough questioning over my intentions with her dad,” she looked at him pointedly. “And then asked if I wanted the spare bedroom upstairs, because, and I quote – we should get a room.”

Phil’s eyes went wide. “She asked… shit.”

“Yeah, blame Maria for that one.”

“Oh, I intend to.” He looked down at her with a smile, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “So…”

“So?”

“Are we… do you want to talk about what this actually is?” he asked, gesturing between the two of them with his free hand, the other straying down her side to hold her waist. 

Melinda swallowed. She’d known this conversation would be coming soon.

“I think we should.”

“I don’t know about you,” he said, glancing around to check Maria wasn’t listening in, “And I know we haven’t discussed anything about being exclusive, or made anything official between us, but I’d quite like it if we…did?”

“If we made it both official and exclusive?”

“Yeah.”

She smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“You would?”

She rose up to place a soft kiss onto his cheek. “Yes. I would.”

“So I can tell people you’re my girlfriend?”

Melinda laughed lightly. “I guess you can.”

* * *

As midnight neared, and sounds of fireworks exploding outside began, Phil knew he needed to go and find Lola – if she was still awake. She’d insisted she wanted to see midnight, but when he’d found her interrogating Melinda, he could tell she was tired then.

But when he headed up the stairs to check her room however, his mother came up from behind him.

“Phil, it’s fine,” Anne said, shooing him away down the stairs again. “I’ll make sure she’s okay, you go outside; it’s almost twelve.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now go, there’s a beautiful lady out there expecting a New Year’s kiss.”

Phil rolled his eyes and turned away; it would always be weird to him how supportive his mother was of his love life, but he was glad she was. And he knew she’d be okay looking after Lola when the fireworks outside started.

He reached the garden as the ten second countdown began, and at seven seconds to go, wrapped his arms around Melinda from behind, spinning her around to face him.

“Is she asleep?” Melinda asked him; Phil loved how she cared about Lola, and it made him like her even more.

“She’s with my mother.”

She nodded in response, and the two just looked at each other as they counted down the final three seconds together.

3…2…1

“Happy New Year” Phil murmured, his words almost drowned out by the cheers from the rest of the party. He pulled her closer with a soft smile.

“Happy New Year.”

She leaned up to kiss him, smiling as she did so, and they both ignored the wolf-whistle that came from Clint’s direction – Melinda knew he would _definitely_ get along with Natasha if they ever met, and that was really not a good thought.

They missed most of the fireworks.

* * *

Melinda wasn’t sure how much time had passed, nor how they had gone from being outside with the rest of the party, to inside his living room, alone, with all the guests having left already. The house was quiet once more, and aside from the occasional explosion in the distance, all the New Year fireworks seemed to have ended. Meaning it was probably way past midnight.

She was on Phil’s knee, legs straddling either side of his, and they’d been sat like that for god knows how long. They’d found themselves alone in the room, and so she’d kissed him, and then he’d kissed her back, and before they knew it the buttons of his shirt were undone, and his hands were under her top, caressing the skin of her waist and hips.

“Stay” he murmured, pressing kisses into her hair and trailing fingers across her lower back, sending shivers down her spine.

Maybe it was because of the party, or the alcohol in her bloodstream, or maybe she just didn’t care about taking it slow anymore, but Melinda really had no desire whatsoever to get him to stop what he was currently doing to her neck.

“Okay.


	5. January

**January**

When Anne awoke in the spare room the next morning, she was shocked to find it was already gone nine; parties always tired her out, especially now she was a little older, but from the silence of the house, she guessed neither Phil nor Lola were awake yet either.

She rose and dressed quickly, grabbing the spare clothes from the wardrobe she had packed into her case when Phil had invited her to stay – staying over meant she wouldn’t have to worry about trying to get home after midnight, and he’d told her there were no other guests staying so she could have the spare room as opposed to the sofa.  Once dressed, she proceeded to go wake Lola for her breakfast. Anne knew that her granddaughter would probably still be asleep if she had stayed up half the night, desperate to reach midnight, but was also aware that if she slept all day, then she wouldn’t be tired in the evening.

Wandering across the hall, she tapped lightly on Lola’s bedroom door, surprised when it pushed open from her slight touch; it had definitely been closed when she had checked on her the previous night. From her spot in the doorway, it was quite obvious Lola was not in her room, her stripy duvet cover pulled back to reveal an empty bed. She frowned, wondering where she was, before remembering that Phil had said once that Lola stayed in his room if she ever had nightmares or couldn’t sleep – and based on the amount of fireworks that had been going off last night, it was more than likely she had headed in there.

Knocking on her son’s door quietly, Anne waited for any kind of response to let her know he was awake, but when she got no answer, and could hear nothing but silence across the house, she opened it a fraction, peering inside.

There she did indeed find her granddaughter; Lola was sound asleep snuggled under the navy blue covers. What Anne hadn’t expected to see however, was that she was curled up in between both Phil and Melinda, who, by all appearances, looked to have fallen asleep in their party clothes. They lay on either side of the bed, on top of the duvet, hands linked together across Lola.

All three were still asleep, and Anne couldn’t help notice that they looked like a little family.

She smiled, closing the door behind her again quietly, and headed downstairs to make the biggest New Year breakfast she could manage.

* * *

Phil awoke when he heard the sound of his bedroom door closing. He’d been dozing on and off for a while anyway, but hearing the door made him peel his eyes open properly. He found, however, nobody there, but the echo of footsteps heading down the stairs told him it had probably been his mother who had come in.

He rolled over carefully, and smiled.

Lola was asleep next to him, curled up under the duvet with her head sharing his pillow. From the way she was stirring gradually, he could tell she would be awake soon.

On the other side of her was Melinda, who, to his surprise, was watching him with sleepy eyes. She must have awoken with the sound of the door too. He squeezed her hand and smiled.

“Hey” Phil said softly, careful not to disturb his daughter.

“Hey.”

“Are you okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

It wasn’t exactly the morning after he had expected when he’d asked her to stay the previous evening. Although, considering how much alcohol they had both consumed, maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. He wanted them to do this right, and drunken sex wasn’t really what he had in mind for their first time together.

* * *

_Everything had gone wrong from the moment she’d agreed to stay; he’d picked her up, telling her to wrap her legs around him and hold on, and carried her up the stairs – although that was a lot harder than the movies made it look, especially after several beers._

_When he finally entered his room (they may have gotten distracted along the way), Phil sat down on the edge of his bed, pulling her down with him, and resuming their activities from before. He’d spent almost ten minutes sucking bruises into her neck, and she’d punched him playfully, telling him she’d have to hide them for a week if he kept going. That only encouraged him further, and he bit down harder, making her moan softly into his ear._

_The slight whimpering sound that came from Lola’s room however stopped him in his tracks, and he closed his eyes, resting their foreheads together as he waited to see if Lola was awake._

_A few moments later, and his thoughts were confirmed, as a small voice in the next room called out for him._

_“Go to her” Melinda murmured, caressing his cheek and sliding off his lap. “She needs you.”_

_“I’m so sorry,” he replied, placing a kiss on her forehead before standing up and heading for the door._

_“Don’t be, Phil.”_

_“I’ll be back.” He glanced back to her, before walking out, and entered Lola’s room to find her sat up with a distraught look on her face, her bottom lip trembling. She’d already turned her bedside lamp on, so Phil knew she must have been scared – she always slept in the dark._

_“What’s the matter princess?”_

_“I had a nightmare” she whispered, a single tear falling down her cheek._

_“Oh honey, you’re okay,” Phil replied, sitting down next to her and pulling her into a hug. “You’re okay.”_

_He rocked her quietly for a while, seeing if she would fall back to sleep on her own. After about ten minutes, Melinda came to the door, and leant against the wooden frame. He apologised to her with his eyes and she smiled, shaking her head slightly and dismissing it as unimportant._

_Lola shifted in his arms and peered up at him. “Can I stay with you tonight?”_

_Phil looked to Melinda helplessly, conveying in silence his apologies for their interrupted night. But Melinda just nodded with a small smile. “Of course you can.”_

_Lola looked over to see her. “Are you sleeping over?”_

_“Yes she is” Phil answered, standing up and picking Lola up from the bed. “So you’ll have to share with both of us.”_

_She nodded sleepily against his chest, and together the three of them headed back next door._

_“You found a room” Lola muttered sleepily, once Phil had tucked her under the covers in between both himself and Melinda. Melinda chuckled slightly._

_“Yeah kid, I found a room.”_

* * *

Lola rolled over and opened her eyes, looking at Phil sleepily and stretching her little limbs across the bed.

“Morning princess.”

“Daddyyyy,” she replied, sitting up and rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah,” she turned to face Melinda, and frowned. “You hurt yourself.”

Melinda sat up, and looked at her confused. “I’ve hurt myself?”

“Your neck” she replied, pointing at the skin above her shoulder blades. Melinda quickly realised what it must be.

“Aha, yeah, it’s okay don’t worry,” she rambled, brushing her hair over her shoulder to cover the marks. Glancing at Phil, she could see him looking very pleased with his handiwork, and vowed to make him pay for that later.

“Are you staying for breakfast?” Lola continued.

Melinda laughed, stretching out. “If that’s okay with you?”

Lola thought about it, before nodding, clambering off the bed. “Is Grandma here?”

“Yeah” Phil replied, smiling at his daughter. “She’s downstairs… you want to go see her?”

Lola grinned and skipped across the room, her bare feet bouncing across the pale carpet, and headed off onto the landing, closing the door behind her.

As soon as the door was closed, Melinda turned to Phil. “Are they bad?” she asked, pointing back at her neck with slight concern.

She grabbed the nearest pillow and whacked him with it when he smirked in response.

“Can I borrow a jumper or something?” she asked, climbing off the bed and looking at her reflection in the mirror with a frown. “Just so I don’t have to have breakfast in this.” She indicated at her top, and Phil realised how uncomfortable she must have been sleeping in it, especially given the zip up the back.

“Yeah of course.” He headed over to his chest of drawers, mentally reprimanding himself for not offering her something else to wear last night, and rummaged through, before pulling out a large grey sweater with the Captain America shield on it. “This okay?”

“Yeah, thanks captain” she replied, smirking as she took it from him, before turning away to face the window. “Could you unzip me?”

Her voice had lowered slightly, and Phil swallowed before reaching out to pull the silver zip down, moving it from her neck all the way to her lower back. As the sides of her top peeled open however, he noticed something that he hadn’t realised would be there.

“You have a tattoo?” he exclaimed, as she paused in the removal of her shirt.

“Yeah,” she gave him a wry smile over her shoulder. “I got it a few years ago.”

“Can I – ?”

She nodded, watching as he slowly reached out, tracing gently the marks on her skin, feeling her shiver slightly under his touch. There were three Chinese symbols trailing vertically from her neck downwards, and despite how he’d never really found tattoos an attractive trait, the small inkings along the top of her spine were actually pretty tasteful.

“What do they mean?”

“Strength, courage, and hope.”

He didn’t need to ask why she’d had them done.

“You sound shocked.”

Phil shrugged. “Only a little, you didn’t really strike me as the tattoo type.”

She exhaled a shaky laugh, before pulling off her shirt fully, dropping it to the floor, and grabbing his jumper from the bed, tugging it on properly and turning back to him.

“What?” he asked, confused by the way she’d laughed.

“Let’s just say if you thought that was a shock, you might be in for a big surprise soon.”

With that she smirked, before walking past him, brushing his arm as she went, and headed out of the door.

It was all Phil could do to watch her leave, wondering what on earth she had meant by that.

* * *

They arrived in the kitchen to find Anne pottering around preparing a large pot of coffee, jugs of sugar and milk already sat on the table waiting for them. The room smelled heavenly, and Phil grinned when he saw his mother had not only made a stack of pancakes – Lola’s favourite – but had also prepared toast, lathered in raspberry jam and fresh butter. His cupboards would definitely need restocking. He squeezed Melinda’s hand in support as they entered the room, and he gestured to her to take a seat opposite Lola.

“Why are you wearing Daddy’s jumper?” Lola asked, pausing her crayon on the page, and watching Melinda carefully.

“Because it’s cold,” she answered simply, sitting down and pouring a glass of orange juice for herself, replacing the jug to the middle of the table after she did so. Apparently her answer was acceptable, because Lola returned to her work almost immediately.

“What’re you drawing?”

“This is a dragon” she replied, pointing at the purple shape on her page. “But he’s a New Year dragon, so he breathes fireworks.” She then indicated to where she had already glued a load of glitter, and Melinda smiled – the kid was creative, that was for sure.  

“He’s awesome,” Melinda said enthusiastically. “Does he have friends? Like, a Christmas dragon who breathes snow? Or an autumn dragon who breathes crunchy leaves?”

The look of excitement on Lola’s face at the new possibilities made Phil smile from across the room; his two girls bonding was all he needed.

It was almost with reluctance that he turned back to where his mother was working.

“What’s all this?” Phil asked, coming up behind his mother with a mock frown.

“Phillip, it is New Years’ Day” she smiled. “And after last night, I’d thought we could all do with good food.” She crossed the room and grabbed a bowl of sliced strawberries she’d prepared already. “Some more than others” she added quietly, and Phil could have sworn she glanced from himself to Melinda as she spoke.

He pretended not to have heard her. _That_ conversation was not happening.

Instead, he carried the plate of pancakes over to the table, ruffling Lola’s hair as he passed, and took the seat next to Melinda.

“Daddddd,” Lola complained with a frown, reaching up to flatten her hair back to how it was. He grinned at her.

“It looks better messy.”

She pouted as Melinda laughed, and Anne took the final seat next to her granddaughter, taking away her crayons and paper – receiving a frown as she did so – and encouraging everybody to help themselves to the food before it went cold.

Phil poured coffee for himself and his mother, and refilled Lola’s orange when she ran out. He made Melinda tea – despite her protests she was happy with orange – and gave her an “I told you so” look as she drank it with a smile. She rolled her eyes at him when he sat back down, and Anne watched them both surreptitiously over her breakfast.

“These are amazing, Anne” Melinda said, reaching out and adding a third pancake to her plate.

“Daddy makes nice pancakes too” Lola chipped in, drinking from her cup and defending her dad’s cooking skills with a frown.

Anna laughed. “Yes he does munchkin, but who do you think taught him?”

“It’s true,” Phil said, nodding at his mother through a mouthful of pancake, “You’re the best cook ever.”

“Oh I know,” she smiled. “Melinda honey, would you like another cup of tea?”

* * *

“Lola Jayne Coulson you come back here right now!”

Phil shook the snow from his ear, and rapidly looked around for his daughter. She was in the park somewhere, but as soon as her snowball found its target she had scarpered, squealing and giggling as she made her escape.  She and Steve were playing against Phil and Maria, and the former two had been losing dramatically until her well-aimed shot smacked Phil across the head; he’d actually been pretty impressed with the power behind her throw, but the moment he felt the cold dripping down his neck his mood turned to revenge.

Phil followed the trail of tiny footprints around the back of a snow-covered rose bush, and found her squatting amongst the leaves, doing her very best impression of a hermit. She jumped when he appeared behind her, and made to run away again, but Phil grabbed her under the arms and carried her back into the field they had been in, promising suffering of the icy cold kind as she kicked her legs around in a desperate attempt to escape her fate.

Steve was stood waiting for them with a sorry expression on his face, and he had a very determined Maria by his side, watching her niece arrive with a smirk.  

“Oh you’re in for it now kid,” she grinned, balling up a snowball of her own and tossing it from palm to palm.

Phil was watching Maria carefully. He knew she wouldn’t actually throw a snowball at his daughter from point-blank range, but he also knew she had a sadistic side that would take great pleasure in tormenting her for a little bit longer.

“I’ve got a better idea” she called, taking a step closer and winking at Phil as she moved. “How about, we bury her alive in the snow?”

“Noooo!” Lola shrieked, making the extra effort and wriggling out of Phil’s grip, dropping to the floor, her starry wellingtons making a soft crunching sound as they hit the snow below.

Steve laughed at her escape, giving her a double thumbs-up from behind Maria’s back. “Run Lola! Run for your life!”

Maria threw her snowball at him instead.

Phil didn’t want to go back to work the next day – he’d loved having the last few weeks off with Lola – but as of tomorrow, he was back to school, so to speak, and she would be back at  her playgroup. He was going to make the most of their time off together.

* * *

The New Year always brought out a deluge of people with resolutions to lose weight. January was usually seen as the busiest month at Providence Fitness Centre, both in terms of new memberships being taken out, and how many people attended the gym in general. When Melinda arrived at work on January 5th, having had what she would honesty describe as one of the best Christmas periods of her life, the first thing she did was log onto the system and check her class schedule for the following weeks. She was almost shocked at how many people had signed up for each of her classes; she taught a mixture of different sessions per day – tai-chi, self-defence, and kickboxing – and almost every single one of them was full.

It was going to be a hard month.

The problem with New Year memberships, Melinda thought, as she signed back off and headed across the centre to her studio, was that a large proportion of the people taking them out, would probably have left again in a couple of months’ time anyway. It was a whim, an impulsive decision to get fit, a resolution that for most people, would not be kept. And whilst she appreciated that they were taking the time to come to the centre in the first place, it would always annoy her a little bit that many members just stopped turning up once spring arrived, as though they no longer cared for the skills she had spent time and energy teaching them.

Or maybe that was the post-holiday blues talking. After all, it was her job, and she did choose to do it.

Sure enough, when people began arriving for her first kick-boxing session of the day – and there were a lot of people, almost thirty-five in the one room – and she ticked them off her list one by one as she went around to ensure all were booked in, it became obvious that many were greatly underestimating just how hard she would work them. One even commented that they were looking forward to meeting people and having a bit of a laugh with it.

That was not exactly how she ran her classes.

“Okay, welcome to the session,” she announced, once she had finished her register and returned to the front of the room. “From what I’ve gathered, for the majority of you, this is your first class, so we’re just going to start with the basics today. If anybody afterwards decides they would like to attend a more vigorous session, I run an advanced one on Wednesday evenings, but I wouldn’t recommend that until you’re more experienced.”

People were now looking at her with a slight trace of apprehension. That was good. She liked that.

“Let’s begin. We’re going to start off with just a basic warm-up.”

She spent the next ten minutes gradually building the class up from walking on the spot, to light jogging, before getting them to begin shifting balance from foot to foot, and introducing the basic kick-boxing punches in varying sequences of difficulty.

Jab, jab, right-hand cross, jab, jab, uppercut, jab, jab, uppercut, jab, jab, right-hand cross…

An hour later, and fifty percent of the class looked like they wanted to die, whilst the other fifty percent were grinning exhaustedly. Most of the latter half would be back; she knew that much after a few years of the same routine. The first half? Not so likely.

One person had almost passed out. Melinda had spent ten minutes sitting with them whilst the on-site first aid attendee arrived just in case, asking multiple questions about their health and their usual routine, and ensuring they drank plenty of fluids. When they revealed they hadn’t eaten anything before the session, it was all she could do to not roll her eyes, and tell them it was their own fault.

January classes – not exactly Melinda’s favourite time.

* * *

Natasha flew back from Russia the next day, but due to her dance schedule, was set to fly out for a month-long tour around Europe the following Friday. So it was decided, as she hadn’t seen the girls very much over the Christmas period, and they had not seen her, that on Thursday, they would all go out for cocktails somewhere. Even Bobbi was free, which was a miracle in itself, but having worked both Christmas and New Year, she was taking a well-earned week’s break.

Melinda had agreed to go with them, under the agreement that this time, Maria didn’t get so intoxicated she couldn’t walk, and that they could be back home before 3am, especially as the two of them had work the next day.

Unlikely on both counts, but at least she tried to be responsible.

Maria only knew both Natasha and Bobbi through Melinda, but they all got along perfectly well. They’d met for the first time the previous year, on a valentines night in; they had all been single at the time, except Maria, but as Steve was away on business that weekend – which annoyed Maria no end – she tagged along with them, and the four had spent the night in Bobbi’s kitchen baking anti-valentines cupcakes, decorated with broken hearts made of pink sugar paste, and drinking tequila straight from the bottle. From then on, the friendship had been cemented for life.

Maria and Natasha both had the same sense of humour, and wound their friends and each other up constantly, with jibes and sarcasm and innuendos. Bobbi and Melinda felt like they refereed every social occasion: stopping the others from killing each other, and making sure everyone got home okay.

It worked for them all. And in honesty, it was great.

The bar they chose was different to their usual places, but it was new, and Bobbi had wanted to try it out. The whole place felt fancy, with tall glass tables dotted around the room that customers stood around, each with a candle in the centre, and hundreds of purple fairy-lights casting a glow across the whole room. There was a dance-floor downstairs which was fully equipped with a resident DJ and strobe lighting, and Melinda had a strong feeling they’d be in there within the next few hours.

They ordered a large jug of Woo Woo cocktail, and stood around their table sharing the red liquid out between their glasses.  

“When are you back on shift Bobbi?” Melinda asked, sipping the sweet liquid. She’d never tried this one before – it had been Maria’s choice – but it was actually very nice, although she could definitely taste the vodka through the cranberry juice. She took another sip just because.

“Sunday,” Bobbi replied. “So at least I’ve got a few more days off.”

“Do you not find it really strange working holidays?” Maria asked, frowning slightly as she did so. She’d never had a job where she had to work nights, so it was a foreign concept to her that as some people spent celebratory occasions partying, others were on shift.

“A bit.” She took a sip of her drink as she thought about it. “But I mean, I’m kind of used to it, I’ve worked the last three New Year’s, and I’ve done about four Christmases too.”

“I guess it’s crazy busy too?”

“Oh yeah,” Bobbi nodded, rolling her eyes as she spoke. “We get twice as many calls, especially on New Year’s Eve.”

“Does Lance not mind you working them?” Natasha asked, removing her leather jacket and placing it on the hook under the table.

“He’s okay with it.”

“Really?”

“Well,” Bobbi sighed slightly. “It took him a while to come around to the idea when we first got together, but he’s okay nowadays. It means he can spend the time with his family.”

Lance was English, and he used to split his time half in England and half in America; luckily, his job afforded him the option of working from home often, so he could still get paid whilst he was visiting Bobbi. But over the past year or so, as he and Bobbi had been getting along so much better, he’d been spending longer and longer periods in the US with her, to the extent he had debated asking his boss if there was a possibility for a transfer to the sister company in the states.

“What about you Nat?” Bobbi asked, steering the focus away from herself. “What was Christmas in Russia like?”

“Possibly the coldest I have ever been,” she replied, shivering as though she were still there. “It was way below freezing permanently.”

“You like the cold though?” Melinda reminded her, knowing all too well how rare it was she would be allowed to turn the heating on in their flat. “And you grew up there; have the winters here made you forget what real cold is?” she teased.

“Yeah, but Mel,” she grinned, shaking her head slightly. “There is cold, and then there is so cold you physically cannot feel your limbs. We went skating on this frozen lake near her flat for a few hours, and I swear it felt like I’d been buried in the ice for seventy years.”

“I couldn’t do it,” Maria chipped in; the idea of being _that_ cold went completely against all her beliefs. “Give me the sun and a gorgeous beach any day.”

“Speaking of sun,” Natasha asked, swirling the contents of her glass around with a sparkly plastic stirrer. “Have you booked a honeymoon yet?”

“Yes,” Maria replied excitedly, her eyes lighting up as she spoke. “Booked it a few weeks back… we’re going to the Bahamas for ten days.”

“Oh wow!” Bobbi exclaimed. “It’s meant to be so beautiful there – clear seas, white sand…”

“Exactly,” Maria grinned. “The pictures looked amazing too, and there was a special offer online, so we just booked it there and then.”

“When do you leave?” Melinda asked, finishing the last of her drink and placing the glass back onto the table in front of her.

“Five days after the wedding, means we don’t have to rush around the next day.”

“So… the end of May?” Bobbi clarified, mentally working out the dates from the wedding to the honeymoon.

Maria nodded. “It won’t be quite as hot as in the middle of summer, but that’s probably a good thing really.”

“Yeah, means you won’t cook when you’re sunbathing… nothing worse than sunburn, especially on your honeymoon photos!”

“Truth” Natasha preached. “Anybody want another jug of this stuff? I’m buying…”

Three hours later and they were still at the same table, and had gone through another two batches of cocktails. At some point in the evening, Bobbi had found a couple of tall chairs, so at least they could sit down and not destroy their feet standing in heels all night.

They’d moved through the conversation topics of work, home, friends, and eventually had ended up debating who had the worst past in terms of relationships – Bobbi, Melinda, or Natasha. Maria had managed to exempt herself from the running, seeing as she’d been with Steve since she was 24, whilst the other three had definitely had their fair share of what some might call disasters.

“Nat, who was that guy you met on one of your dance tours?” Maria asked. “The singer?”

“The one who serenaded me in public?”

“Yes!”

“Yeah, he went after that.”

“And Mel,” Bobbi turned to her. “What happened to that guy you were seeing last year? Grant something, wasn’t it?”

Melinda prickled slightly at the mention of his name. “Yeah…” she dropped her gaze to the drink in her hand. “Son of a bitch” she mumbled.

Natasha snorted as Bobbi looked at her curiously. “Oh god, what did he do?”

“He was using me to get back at somebody else” she replied simply, putting her glass back down on the table harder than she’d originally intended. “So I… got rid of him.”

Her eyes flashed at the latter part of her statement, and Bobbi raised her eyebrows, wondering what the hell she had done when she’d found out.

“It was only sex though, right?” Natasha asked with a smirk, knowing exactly what had happened when Melinda had discovered the truth.

“Yeah.”

_But it still hurt._

“Never mind,” Natasha said happily, looking over at Maria. “She’s banging your brother now!”

Melinda choked, and Maria spluttered over her drink, putting her glass down with closed eyes. “Oh my god Nat, I did not want that image in my head.”

“I mean, I’m assuming she is…” Natasha continued, oblivious to Maria’s distaste for the turn in conversation, and turned to Melinda, raising her eyebrows. “Have you guys…?”

Melinda glanced up at Natasha, then to Bobbi, to Maria – who was watching her through her fingers – and then back to Natasha; there was no way to escape the three pairs of eyes waiting for her response.

She shook her head slightly. “No, we haven’t.”

“Why not?” Natasha asked, outraged. “You stayed at his on New Year’s didn’t you? –“ 

Melinda saw Maria straighten up out of the corner of her eye… apparently she hadn’t known that.

“– Are you telling me nothing happened between you both?”

“Well…”

“I’m going to the bar so I don’t have to listen to this” Maria announced suddenly, rising from her seat and walking away. Natasha smirked at her retreating form.

“God I love annoying her.”

“I know,” Melinda replied, smiling weakly, knowing full well this conversation was not over yet. “And you do it so well.”

* * *

Melinda moved around the flat with a bundle of nerves in her stomach. Natasha had left for Europe earlier that afternoon, and ever since the moment she had returned from work, Melinda had been tidying and sorting and making sure the place looked acceptable – Nat didn’t half leave things in a mess sometimes.

Once she decided it could look no tidier, she had spent ages stood in front of her wardrobe debating what to wear. It was ridiculous really. Phil was coming round at half seven, and Melinda was preparing dinner for them both. His mother had decided to take it upon herself to make sure the two of them could spend time together alone, and so Lola was staying over at her house for the night.

Phil arrived bearing a bottle of wine and a smile, brushing his spare hand through his hair nervously as he stepped into her world for the first time, and Melinda felt the butterflies begin their rhythmic dance within her chest.

They both knew what this night meant.

She prepared risotto, with cream, mushrooms, and chicken, and they shared the meal over the wine he brought with him, with mismatched plates and glasses; Melinda apologised they were all different, telling him how everything in the flat was thrown together from various places all over the world, and he laughed, taking hold of her hand across the table. Despite the quality of the food she’d made – she was thankful in that moment her mother had taught her the basics about cooking when she was growing up – neither was able to finish their portion. She had also made cheesecake for dessert, but they both knew it wasn’t going to be eaten.

Phil offered to clear the dishes, but she insisted she would do them in the morning, rising from her chair and piling them onto the worktop beside the sink. When she turned around, Phil was watching her with a smile, not unlike the one she remembered from New Years’. He took a step towards her, and another, and then they were there, in front of one another, and she suddenly felt the familiar level of anxiety she had on their first date. Swallowing, she reached out, taking his hand, and led him to the living room area.

Half an hour later and they found themselves lying entangled on the sofa, cheeks flushed rose pink, lips swollen, and the desire that had been building for months finally coming to a head.

He reached down and trailed his fingertips under her vest – the lace shirt that she had worn over the top already having been disposed of – and stroked gently up her waist, revelling in the tiny shiver she gave as his fingers brushed just beneath her ribs.

But as Phil hovered above her, he watched something in her eyes flicker, and he paused, frowning slightly as she looked up at him with a tiny trace of hesitation.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, sitting back up, his knees sinking into the plush fabric of the sofa on either side of her thighs.

Melinda watched him with a combination of apprehension and disappointment, and she gradually sat herself up so they were facing each other once more.

“Do you remember when I said I was attacked” she said quietly, as her words led Phil to absently reach out, tracing the light scar on her chest.

“Yes.”

“Well…” she paused, biting her lip as she fought to say what it was she needed to. “This scar,“ she said, moving her fingers up to join his, “It isn’t the only one.”

Phil looked at her in question, before realising what she meant.

“He… more than once?”

She nodded slowly, and Phil swallowed.

“How many times?”

“Three. I’ve got one under my ribs and another on my stomach… but they’re worse than this one.”

Her words broke slightly on the latter half of her statement, and Phil realised all at once that she was self-conscious about her scars. It hadn’t been something he’d actually considered – Melinda always came across as quiet but confident – yet as soon as the thought entered his head he knew it was correct.

“Hey,” he said, moving his free hand to tilt her jaw slightly so she looked at him. “It’s okay. I don’t care if you have a hundred scars, you’re beautiful.”

“Phil…”

“I’m serious. But… if you want to keep them covered, you can, it’s your choice, no pressure.”

Melinda looked at him, boring her brown eyes into the depths of his blue, before seemingly coming to an internal decision. The next thing he knew and she was reaching her hands down and grabbing the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head in one fluid motion.

“I trust you” she said simply, as he watched her in a moment of mixed shock and awe.

He stroked the angry red marks that littered her lower body, biting back the growl he wanted to release as he saw just how deep one of them must have gone. Clearly his expression gave away his emotions, because she shook her head, pulling him closer.

“Don’t” she murmured. “It’s over, it’s done.”

“I know.”

She leaned forwards, grazing her lips against his once more, and the hammering in their chests became one.

She was glad they had waited. They both were.

* * *

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured softly, tracing circles into her right hip as they lay facing each other, the dim lights of the city drifting through the gap of her curtains. At some point, they had risen from the sofa and ended up in her bedroom, and Phil was thankful for the move solely due to how comfortable her bed was. He didn’t want to leave, and he especially had no desire to remove himself from the warmth of Melinda lying next to him.  

He’d missed this. It had been too long since he had shared something like this with anybody. And he was glad it was with her.

He slowly moved the silken sheet down her body, revealing the silver ring she had pierced through her right nipple. Phil had to admit, he had been pretty surprised when she’d removed the black lace of her bra, and he’d found a small flash of silver glinting in the light. All at once he’d remembered their earlier conversation regarding tattoos and surprises.

“You like that, don’t you?” she smirked, his fascination for it a completely different reaction to the one she had expected him to give.

“Yeah, it’s… sexy” he admitted, reaching out a finger and gently flicking the silver ring, the cool steel a stark contrast to the heat of her skin. “Does it hurt?”

“Not now,” she shrugged as much as she could from her horizontal position. “But it stung like a bitch when I got it done.”

“Why’d you do it?”

“I was a slightly rebellious teenager… “

He could see her smirking in the dim light of the bedroom.

“My mother said no piercings or tattoos… so yeah.”

“Naturally you did both.”

“Naturally.”

She watched him for a while, as he glanced around, taking in miniscule details about her life; from the silk of her violet bedding, to the cushions they’d thrown to the floor in their haste, right down to the perfectly crafted glass snow-globe on her bedside table – his gift to her for Christmas. The scene inside had reminded him of their first few meetings: a park, with a bench and a lake, only it now was covered in a layer of snow.

When he met her eyes once more, and found her gazing softly back at him, he smiled, and Melinda reached out, tugging him closer as they lost a few more hours.

It was the other side of midnight when they finally fell asleep.


	6. February

**February**

February the fourteenth – Valentine’s Day – fell on a Saturday, and without registering what the date was, Phil realised slightly too late that he had unknowingly promised Lola he would take her to the local science centre that weekend, so she could go into “the star room”, as she called the planetarium.

A few weeks earlier, and the two had been snuggled on the sofa under Lola’s dragon blanket, whilst she’d had a glass of milk before bed, and they had found themselves watching a show on television all about galaxies and space. Lola’s fascination for it led Phil to mention that there was a room at the facility where you could sit in the dark and see what the stars would look like, and she’d practically bounced up the stairs with excitement when he offered to take her.

He partly debated cancelling, and moving their trip to the following weekend, but knew deep down he couldn’t do that to her. This was her treat, and he and Melinda could do something the following day instead. As it turned out however, that wasn’t necessary, as when he told Melinda of their plans, she was fine with it, saying how she thought Valentines was overrated anyway, with prices for simple things doubling, and restaurants filled with too many tables and lovey-dovey couples.

“If you care for someone, tell them every day,” she’d said, as they sat in his kitchen one evening after they’d both finished work for the day. “Don’t wait until a specific time of the year, that’s ridiculous.”

He had to agree.

On the Wednesday afternoon just before Valentines however, Phil walked into the back room where Lola and Melinda were sitting, and overheard his daughter inviting Melinda to go with them herself.

“We’re going to see the star room on Saturday” she’d said happily, as Melinda had smiled at her excitement. “Have you been?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Come with us! Daddy won’t mind!”

He smiled; the fact she wanted to spend time with her filled him with warmth. Lola had never really had a mother figure in her life – Maria thoroughly enjoyed playing the role of the aunt who spoiled her as opposed to mothering her – and besides her grandmother, she rarely had much female company, so the fact his daughter would willingly invite Melinda on days out with them was great in his eyes.

And she’d definitely be a better influence than his sister was.

When the Saturday arrived, Phil bundled Lola into her booster-seat, strapping her in carefully and kissing her nose before he closed the door, and drove around to pick Melinda up from her flat. When he arrived she was stood on the steps outside of her building waiting for him, chatting away to Natasha – she must have returned from her European tour earlier that week – but as soon as he pulled up she smiled, saying goodbye to her friend and climbing into the passenger seat. Phil offered Natasha a lift somewhere, if she wanted it, but she declined, and so as the door closed behind Melinda, they were off.

On the drive there, they listened to Disney songs, and Lola sang along to the ones she knew with a grin on her face. Phil pretended to not know the words, but his plan was scuppered when his daughter announced that he always sang Circle of Life with her. Melinda hid her smirk well, but Phil caught her miming along with the words when it got to the Mulan section.

He would use that against her later.

There was a poster in the entrance hall of the centre advertising a coming exhibition focused on science-fiction, featuring the production of special effects, and the poster included an image of avengers such as Captain America and Iron Man, and Melinda had to smirk as Phil pretended to not get excited when he saw it. She’d take him to see it, when it arrived.

They walked through zone after zone, Phil and Melinda trailing behind, hand in hand, letting Lola linger and explore every activity she wanted to. She took a liking to the shadow puppets that were being demonstrated in the section dedicated to light, and seemed enchanted by the sounds of instruments when playing on a machine that demonstrated how sound worked. Phil watched her listening to them intently, and wondered if maybe she’d inherited Audrey’s love of music.

She dipped her hands into a bowl of sand, which flowed like water around her skin as air was pumped through it. The liquid sand was cold, and she giggled, finding Phil’s hands in the bowl and grabbing onto them. Melinda watched from a distance as they laughed together, and she felt an unfamiliar pang in her chest as Lola looked at her dad like he was her entire world. She’d never even thought about being a mother, but the way they were with each other made her wonder if she’d ever experience that herself.

Lola was fascinated by the glass ball of electricity she found in a corner, sparks dancing under surface below her fingers as she moved them over the sphere. When Phil wanted to take photographs of her to send to his mother, instead of joining in, she dragged Melinda over to copy her, showing her how to put her hands, the two watching the purple static jump and fizz as their hands touched different areas of the crystal globe. Phil took more pictures than necessary, but it didn’t matter; they were memories he definitely wanted to keep.

The three of them were booked into the four-pm planetarium show, and so when Phil’s watch showed it being ten to the hour, they made their way into the theatre, handing their tickets into the attendee on the door as they entered. Lola was practically skipping around as they found somewhere to sit – everyone was free to sit where they wanted around the room – and the seating arrangements consisted of several tiers of carpeted stairs that surrounded the circumference of the room. Most of the children seemed to be congregating around the front together, cross-legged on the floor in front of a podium, and when Lola asked Phil if she could go and sit with them all, he nodded, watching carefully as she made her way down the stairs and over to the group.

He and Melinda sat near up on the fourth tier, near the back, making sure it was both away from the crowds of excitable children, but also somewhere Lola could see them if she wanted to return. As they settled down, removing their jackets and using them as cushions against the hard carpeted floor, he leaned in to Melinda, placing a soft kiss against her cheek.

“Thank you for coming today,” he said quietly, linking his right hand through her left where they rested in between them. “She’s loved it.”

“I still feel like I’m intruding on your family day out.”

“You aren’t, I promise.” He smiled at her, and she reciprocated the gesture with a squeeze of his hand. “Anyway, she asked you herself, so you know…” he trailed off, glancing back down to where Lola sat, now chattering away with a girl with bright red hair and freckles, who seemed to be showing her a book about planets. “She likes you.”

“You almost sound surprised.”

Phil shook his head. “Not surprised, more… I was worried it would take her a while to adjust, you know? Because it’s just been the two of us almost all of her life.”

She nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. She’d spent most of her own childhood with just one parent, and knew it would have been a little bit weird if somebody else had turned up in her mother’s life.

“I know.”

They sat in a peaceful silence until the doors were locked, and the presenter arrived at the podium.

Phil wished the kids in his class at school would listen to him as aptly as the children listened to the man talking to them about the origins of the universe.

The lights went off, and after a few moments of sitting in the dark, the “sky” above them began to shimmer and sparkle, individual stars lighting up and travelling across the ceiling, their orbits tracking one another as information was provided to explain each constellation.

Phil was pretty sure Lola wouldn’t really understand half of what was said, but he hoped she enjoyed the show none-the-less. He had to admit, the display of galaxies that was projected around the screen at the front, was beyond impressive.

At some point Melinda rested her head on his shoulder, and he leaned down, placing a kiss into her hair as the universe span around them, revelling in the ever-growing familiar scent of orange he knew was from her shampoo.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered, laying his own head against hers, and wrapping his arm around her waist.

They remained cuddled together for the rest of the show.

* * *

Phil sat at the dining table, and sighed, rubbing his eyes as he registered just how tired he really was. He’d been in the same seat, and the same position, for two hours straight, hand-signing letters to students in each of his higher-level classes, detailing a trip to Washington that was being planned for a few months’ time. There were only twenty places on the trip, and he taught over one-hundred different pupils, so they needed to get their permission slips and payment handed in on a first come first serve basis.

The ultimate distraction from his task wandered into the room with a sympathetic smile, and Melinda sipped her half-drank mug of tea as she appraised his situation. She’d been supervising Lola during the time he got his work done – the two had sat in the other room with Lola’s new paint set, and proceeded to paint pictures of planets – but after a lot of yawning, Lola had settled down and fallen asleep on the sofa; Melinda had covered her in a throw and quietly left the room.

She pulled out a chair to join him at the table, placing her mug down onto a coaster, and leaned forwards, resting her chin on her hand.

“She’s fallen asleep,” she explained, at his questioning look to her arrival.

Phil nodded in understanding.

“Okay, I’ll go get her in a minute and put her to bed.”

“How’s it going?”

“I’ve done about three-quarters, almost there.”

Melinda looked at the letter he was currently signing upside down, watching as he swirled his signature in blue ink at the bottom of the page.

_P. J. Coulson._

“What does the ‘J’ stand for?” she asked, realising for the first time she didn’t know he had a middle name.

“James” he replied, glancing up to give her a small smile as he popped the cap back onto his pen. “It was my dad’s name.”

“That’s sweet, you were named after him?”

Phil nodded. “I was. I like it, and now that he’s gone, in a way I still kind of feel close if that makes sense?”

“Yeah.”

Phil folded the letter up, sealing into an envelope and adding it to the pile he had already completed. “So what’s yours?”

She laughed slightly, taking a final gulp of her semi-cold tea, and setting the mug down onto the table in front of her. “Technically, it’s Melinda.”

“Melinda is your middle name?”

“Yeah,” she paused and watched his baffled expression with a wry smile. “My given name is Qiao Lian.”

“So why are you known as Melinda?”

“Because when I started school over here, everyone in my class had typically American names like Sarah and Katie and Tom.” She trailed her fingertip absently along the rim of her mug. “And I guess I just… I was a kid at a new school and I didn’t know anyone and I wanted to fit in,” she shook her head a little. “So I used my middle name, and it’s stuck throughout my life.” She shrugged, brushing it off. “My mother still calls me Qiao Lian though,” she added. “She doesn’t really like that I stopped using it.”

“Qiao Lian is a beautiful name,” Phil said quietly, trying extra hard to pronounce it as she had – he failed, and she laughed slightly.

“Qiao Lian” she enunciated.

“Qiao Lian.”

“Close enough,” she grinned, before rising from the table, and putting her empty mug into the sink. “I’ll let you finish these… let me know when you’re done?”

The look in her eyes as she walked back towards the living room, made him want to forget signing the rest of the letters straight away, and just drag her upstairs with him instead.

* * *

“Okay, and now add the flour, you know which one that is?”

“This stuff?” Lola asked, pointing at the bowl of white powder to her left. Melinda nodded with an encouraging smile.

“Yep, put all that into the big bowl, and then you can stir it if you want?”

She watched as Lola added the flour – managing to get half the contents all over the work-surface at the same time – before handing her a wooden spoon and standing back as she began to mix the ingredients together. Each time she moved the spoon across the bowl, plumes of flour seemed to escape from the confines of the dish, and by the time she had finished, Melinda was pretty sure they were wearing half of the mixture on their clothes; at least Lola had a mini-apron on.

It was Sunday night, and Phil was drowning under a pile of essays he needed to get marked for the following week. He’d mentioned it to Melinda the previous day, when they had been out to the park with Lola – Melinda had watched with a smile as Phil pushed her on the swings and caught her at the bottom of the slide – and she had volunteered to watch Lola for a few hours, if he needed to get the work done. He’d hesitated at first, and she’d thought it was because he didn’t trust her with his daughter, but upon seeing the expression on her face had quickly clarified it was because he didn’t want her to feel like a babysitter. She’d told him it was fine, and now she was stood in their kitchen, covered in flour, trying to show Lola how to bake cookies.

The kid made such a mess. It was completely different to how Melinda liked to live; her studio was always immaculate, as was her bedroom, although the rest of the flat tended to become slightly untidy when Natasha was around to leave empty glasses and clothing everywhere. But she remembered something her mother had once said, about how children need to be messy in order to be creative and learn, so she wasn’t overly concerned about the coco powder that was all down the front of Lola’s apron.

Melinda measured out the required amount of water for the recipe herself, but let Lola pour it into the bowl, and then proceeded to bring the mixture together with the wooden spoon whilst Lola nibbled on some spare chocolate chips sat in a bag on the side. Once it was all in one ball, she removed it from the dish, rolling it out onto the surface into a sheet with the rolling pin.

“Right,” she said, stepping back and putting her hands on her hips, calling on her experience as an instructor to help her make this work – she still wasn’t 100% on how much to let Lola do herself, but she was trying. “Have you got your cutters?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay kid,” she smiled. “Cut your biscuits!”

Melinda watched with a smile as Lola cut out all of the cookies from the mixture, creating multiple star and heart shaped biscuits using the set she had bought her for Christmas. She’d bought them on a whim in all honesty, having spotted them a few days after they visited the markets. Now she was glad she had picked them up.

Lola finished cutting them out, before covering them in chocolate chips; Melinda had a feeling they were supposed to have gone into the mixture rather than on top, but it didn’t matter. When she had done, Melinda helped her to pick them up, laying them across the baking tray waiting by the oven and throwing the spare mixture back into the bowl.

“How long will they take?” Lola asked, snaffling bits of the leftover mixture when she thought Melinda wasn’t watching.

“I saw that,” she grinned, and Lola looked suitably guilty until Melinda started snacking on the raw cookie dough herself. “They’ll take about ten minutes.”

“Can I watch tv whilst they cook?”

Melinda nodded; she wasn’t going to make a four year old do the washing up. “Of course, when the oven starts beeping, they’ll be ready.”

“Yey!” Lola grinned, sneaking more chocolate chips before dancing from the room. Melinda watched her go with a small smile, and when she heard the sounds of the television turning on in the next room, she glanced around the kitchen to see how bad of a mess had been made.

Clearly quite a lot.

She began to wander around, picking up the used bowls and utensils, and piling them next to the sink. She turned the tap on, letting the hot water pour steam into the room, and added a squirt of the lime green washing-up liquid that stood by the side of the taps; apparently it was apple scented.

“You’re a natural with her, you know that?”

Melinda turned the tap off and spun around, finding Phil leaning against the kitchen door-frame watching her; she glanced at the mess all over the room with a slightly bewildered laugh. “Phil, have you seen the state of your kitchen?”

“You think I care about that?” He took a few steps towards her and reached out, linking their hands together with a smile. “All I care is that she is happy, and you are happy.”

Melinda shook her head, glancing back to the doorway to make sure Lola wasn’t listening. “I’ve never been around kids,” she said quietly. “Ever. So half the time I don’t even know what to say or do…”

Phil unlinked his right hand and lifted it up, gently stroking away the white smudge of flour that was streaked across her left cheek.

“I was watching you before; believe me, you’re doing amazing.”

“You think?”

“Yes.”

The hand that had been stroking flour from her cheek reached around, tangling in her hair as he took a step towards her; his other hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him with a smile as she stood up onto her tiptoes.

She hummed happily as their lips met, and bunched his shirt in her fists tightly as they stood amongst the chaos of flour and sugar that covered his kitchen.

He pulled back with a slight laugh, and Melinda looked at him puzzled.

“What?”

“You taste like cookie dough.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Oh yeah,” he grinned, before leaning down to capture her lips once more.  He slowly began to walk her backwards, until she was leaning against the cool door of the fridge.

The beeping sound that vaguely registered somewhere in Melinda’s subconscious several minutes later turned out to be the oven timer, and she knew that she’d need to check on the cookies to make sure they weren’t burning.

“Phil… cookies…. oven… ready” she mumbled in between kisses, making no move whatsoever to go and turn the oven off and check on the progress of the biscuits. He nodded against her lips, drawing her even closer against him as the smell of fresh baking continued to fill the room, and –

“Ewww Daddddd!”

The small voice at the door however acted like a bucket of water, and the two jumped away from one another as though scalded. Phil spun around slightly abashedly to see his daughter watching them, and Melinda turned quickly to deal with the oven, silencing the timer with one hand as she grabbed an oven-mitt from the counter with the other.

“What?”

“Yuck.” She pulled a face and scrunched up her nose.

“Why yuck?” Phil rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously; it was clearly not a conversation he wanted to have with his four year old, however if he and Melinda were going to do this, Lola would have to get used to seeing them together sometimes.

She shrugged, her tiny shoulders rising up to touch her ears, and he tried not to laugh at the comic value of that motion. “Well Auntie Maria pretended to be sick when she saw you both doing that… so it’s yuck.”

“Auntie Maria is a bad influence sometimes…” Phil muttered under his breath, just loud enough for them to hear him.

“That she is,” Melinda agreed, before turning to face Lola with a bright, innocent smile. “Hey kid, your cookies are ready!”

They all spent the next fifteen minutes sat in front of the television munching on freshly baked cookies dunked in milk, before Phil decided it really was time for Lola to go to bed.

“What do you say?” Phil asked, as both he and Lola stood in the middle of the room. Lola turned to face Melinda, who had stood up in preparation to take the empty glasses and plates into the kitchen whilst Phil put his daughter to bed.

“Goodnight Melinda” Lola said, before reaching out and hugging her legs cautiously, as though wondering if she was allowed to do that.

Melinda was slightly taken aback, but reached down and stroked her hair anyway.

“Night Lola.”

* * *

“So, remind me again how you convinced me this was a good idea?”

Melinda wandered around the flat warily, looking from the balloons sellotaped above the kitchen archway, to the collection of various wines and spirits lining the countertop, and finally back to the speaker system Natasha had somehow set up whilst Melinda had been at work.

“Because,” Natasha grinned, her red-painted lips curling up in excitement. “It’s my birthday, and I wanted a party, and you wouldn’t deny me my only birthday wish.”

Yes. Melinda knew all too well. The party was fine, what she didn’t understand was why her friend couldn’t have it out somewhere; why did it have to be at the flat?

Natasha had invited quite a few people to her birthday celebration, including her sister Antonia, who was flying over from Russia especially. She also had invited several of her fellow ballet troupe members, Maria (and Steve, although he was working so might not be able to get there in time), Bobbi and Lance (who was in the country at the moment), and she had also told Melinda to bring Phil.

Melinda knew she would regret it as soon as she asked him, but he seemed happy with the idea, if not slightly nervous for meeting her friends properly for the first time.

_“You remember Natasha?” she had asked him casually, the week before the party was due to be held. She already knew Phil was free because he had come to an arrangement with his mother now that she had Lola to stay at hers each Friday night. They were grateful to her really, because whilst Melinda definitely did not mind Lola being there when she and Phil met up, it was nice to have him to herself for an evening, no matter how selfish it felt._

_And besides, if it was just the two of them, they could have their own kind of fun._

_“Yeah,” he’d replied cautiously, remembering only too well the last time he really met her she’d swung the door open to reveal the two of them making out in the hallway like a pair of teenagers. His neck still seemed to prickle even when he thought about the memory._

_“It’s her birthday on Friday, and she’s having a party at ours, you want to come?”_

_“Do you want me to come?”_

_“Depends,” she’d smirked. “You’ll probably get interrogated by half our friends, and they’ll be very drunk.”_

_“Sounds fun.”_

_“Maria is coming too.”_

_He looked at her, feigning annoyance. “Great, although I need to speak to her about what she says around Lola.”_

_Melinda just grinned. “You love her really.”_

_“Debateable.”_

In the end he’d agreed to come, and Melinda was aware that chances were he would stay the night again. Even though they’d been officially a couple for almost two months, she still had butterflies at the thought of him coming round.

When Phil turned up at around nine, the party was already in full-swing. Natasha had the speakers blasting some music Melinda didn’t know, and she knew full well the neighbours would probably complain at some point. Natasha was talking with her sister, and after a quick introduction of “Mel, this is Toni, Toni this is Mel,” Melinda had yet to actually have a conversation with her. But it was okay, and she took Phil’s hand when he looked a little lost within the crowds in their living room, and pulled him away to the kitchen area.

It just happened that Maria was in there with Bobbi and Lance

“Bobbi, Lance,” Melinda said, indicating between the couple across the counter, as she grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge. “This is Phil.”

“Hey,” Lance said with a grin, holding out his free hand. “Nice to meet you mate.”

“Likewise,” Phil replied, silently wishing his sister wasn’t watching him awkwardly socialise. Bobbi simply smiled and said hello, and he nodded at her with a responding smile as he took the beer from Melinda.

“Are you ignoring me?” Maria asked, her eyebrow raised at Phil in mock annoyance.

“Yep.”

“What did I do this time?”

“You mean besides telling my daughter that we –“ he gestured between himself and Melinda, “ – need to get a room?”

Bobbi snorted into her drink, and Lance was watching with a grin as he pretended to hide behind his beer.

“I didn’t… shit did she hear that?”

“Yep.”

“Okay in fairness,” she replied, holding her hands up in surrender. “She shouldn’t have been listening, I said that to Steve…”

“Said what to me?” Steve asked, walking into the kitchen with a smile before turning to see who else was in there. “Hey Phil, Maria said you were coming.”

“Hey. We were just discussing your future wife’s inability to keep her mouth shut.”

“Oh I’m used to that,” Steve joked, before he saw the look on his fiancé’s face. “Okay, apparently I should take note; I’m going to regret saying that later.”

“Oh yes you are,” she warned, before grabbing a bottle of wine from the side and stalking past him into the living room again.

“Oops.”

“Nah leave her mate,” Lance said cheerfully, taking a swig from his beer. “That’s just women for you.”

“You keep talking and you’ll regret it too,” Bobbi warned.

Lance looked from Bobbi, to Steve, to Phil and Melinda, before risking looking at Bobbi again.

“Bloody hell.”

* * *

After several hours, the party had drawn to a natural end point. It was around two in the morning, and most guests had left; the few that remained were lingering around the living room and relaxing on the sofas, so Phil and Melinda had the kitchen to themselves.

Natasha had just whirled through the room, still a bundle of energy despite the time, and thanked Phil for the bottle of wine he bought her for her birthday. As she’d left she’d thrown some a comment over her shoulder at the pair of them along the lines of “not being too loud tonight” because her sister was staying on the sofa, and whilst Phil had watched her leave in slight shock, Melinda had simply rolled her eyes at her roommate; she was completely used to it.

“Do you know who she reminds me of?” Phil asked quietly, watching over Melinda’s shoulder to ensure Natasha wasn’t coming back to add another jibe.

“Clint?”

Phil looked at her in astonishment. “Yeah, how did you know that?”

“Because I thought the exact same thing when I met him at New Year.”

“Is she single?” he asked thoughtfully, already mentally planning out how to get the two of them to meet, despite how much he knew he would probably come to regret it in the future.

“Why?” Melinda teased, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. “You interested?”

He turned back to face her, and his lip quirked up in a small smirk. “What do you think?”

With that he reached out, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him, kissing her deeply with a contented sigh.

She was wearing another all-black outfit – Phil was beginning to see that it was just one of her quirks – but the neckline on her top exposed her collar bones to the world. He’d been unable to stop looking at her all night, wishing for them to be alone so he could trail kisses – and his teeth – down the soft skin of her neck; he knew from experience her collar bones looked great with his handiwork bruised into them.

At some point, Melinda ended up sat on the counter, Phil standing in between her thighs as she wrapped her knees around him, crossing her ankles behind his legs. She’d taken her shoes off in the process, kicking them to the floor so she didn’t dig her heels into his legs.

She’d bunched his shirt up in her fists to begin with, but as the kiss went on she found her hands underneath it, trailing the bare skin of his stomach and hips.

To Phil they felt like fire, licking their way around his body. He never wanted her to stop.

“Maybe Maria was right about you needing to get a room.”

The English accent of one Lance Hunter sounded throughout the kitchen, and Phil groaned against Melinda’s mouth. Clearly he had his internal thoughts about not wanting to stop, way too soon.

Melinda however didn’t move; a mixture of adrenaline, alcohol and lust running through her bloodstream, she simply gave him the finger from behind Phil’s back. “It’s my flat,” she mumbled against Phil’s lips. “My rules.”

“Fair point,” Lance replied. “Me and Bobbi, we’re off, so I’ll see you soon.”

Melinda pulled back from Phil, looked around him to see Lance grinning like a hyena at them both.

“Bye!” she called, as he nodded, before disappearing out of sight and heading towards the front door.

“Nice meeting you!” Phil added, before turning back to Melinda with a smile. In the background noise of the flat, they could hear Bobbi and Lance saying goodbye to Natasha, before they heard the front door close once more.

“So,” Phil said quietly, tucking stray hair strands back behind Melinda’s ear as she sat facing him on the countertop. Her pupils were completely blown and her lips swollen – it was a kick knowing that was all his doing. “Where were we?”

She smiled, and he brushed his hands back up her thighs as she tugged him closer.


	7. March

**March**

The first of March brought with it the first mild day of the year, and Melinda smiled each morning as she awoke and dressed, knowing she wouldn’t need her scarf or gloves to keep her from freezing half to death.

Saturday the 7th was the date of the final dress fitting for Maria’s wedding, and Melinda couldn’t hide the fact she was actually looking forward to spending the afternoon with the other bridesmaids again.

When she arrived at the shop however, having fought her way through the crowds of people who decided it was a good day to spend their money, and generally get in her way, Maria was round the back suffering from a major wedding freak-out – something that seemed to be getting more common as May loomed towards them – and it took Melinda a good ten minutes just to understand what the problem was.

“Izzy… she’s not coming… needs to be here!”

Pepper called out from one of the adjacent cubicles. “Melinda, please try and convince her it’ll be okay; she won’t listen to me and I’m currently only half dressed.”

“Maria,” Melinda said firmly, holding her shoulders and making her look at her. “Breathe.”

Maria frowned, but she gradually began to calm down, inhaling and exhaling in time with Melinda as she went through her breathing exercises from tai-chi. The assistant watched them warily from behind the cash desk, clearly having been witness to many a future-bride having a meltdown in her shop, during her career.

“Right,” Melinda said quietly, once her friend had stopped panicking. “What’s happened?”

“Izzy can’t come, her girlfriend is sick and she has to look after her.”

“Okay,” Melinda nodded. She didn’t know Izzy really, but she was seeing more clearly why Maria was freaking out; she liked things to be organised, especially surrounding the wedding, so plans changing at the last minute unnerved her slightly. “It isn’t her fault, and you can’t do anything about it.”

“I know, but –“

“- But,” Melinda said firmly, “She isn’t missing the wedding; she just can’t try her dress on again today.”

“What if it doesn’t fit?”

“It will.”

“But what –“

“- Drink this,” Melinda said, handing her the glass of champagne she had picked up on her way in. She could get another one in a while, and it definitely seemed like Maria needed it more than her. “Drink it and calm down. Then try your dress on, okay?”

Maria looked at her with a frown, before taking the glass from her. “Okay,” she smiled a little. “Thanks Mel.”

Melinda nodded at her, and waited until she’d downed her glass – it took all of five seconds – and then ushered her into the large changing room at the end of the section. The assistant came over at that point, having realised that the crisis was over, and followed Maria in to help with her dress. Melinda pulled the red velvet curtain closed across the opening.

“If you need another hand, let me know.”

She stepped back and headed towards the desk, placing Maria’s empty champagne flute onto the silver tray that was currently resting on the edge, and taking another glass for herself.

She had a feeling she was going to need it.

Pepper excited her cubicle at that moment, dressed once more in the deep pink dress that they had selected in November – Melinda couldn’t believe how quick the time had gone since their last visit.

“Still fits” she said smiling, turning herself around in front of the mirror to check out her reflection from all angles. “Thank God.”

Melinda laughed quietly. “Did you not think it would?”

“Oh, yeah, I was sure it would, but can you imagine the reaction if it didn’t?” she replied, indicating over to where Maria was currently trying her wedding dress on.

“True, you’d probably get thrown off maid of honour duties.”

The two laughed, and Melinda wandered over to the empty cubicle next to where Pepper had been. She should probably try her own dress on too, just to make sure.

A few minutes later and she was back with Pepper, the two admiring their reflections side-by-side.

“Have we got shoes picked out yet?” Melinda asked, frowning slightly as she lifted the hem of her dress slightly – it was a little bit too long, and she would need heels to prevent it dragging on the floor.

“Yes.” Pepper said, pulling up an image on her tablet. “They look like this, and are on order at the moment. Should arrive in a week or so.”

“Okay.”

She would just have to stand on her tip-toes for now; it was one of the problems with being only five foot three.

“Wow, Maria you look stunning!” Pepper exclaimed suddenly, as the velvet curtain was pulled back and Maria stepped back into the shop, wearing her wedding dress.

“You really do,” Melinda added, smiling as her friend twirled around in the gown. It was the first time she’d seen her wearing it

It was beautiful; white lace sleeves encased her arms, a sweetheart neckline dipping down her chest – she was planning to wear a simple diamond necklace to fill the space – and the skirt fell to the ground in a waterfall of silk. There wasn’t a train, but in honesty it did not need one.

“Are you having a veil?” the assistant asked, looking proudly on as her creation was admired.

Maria looked at her two friends for advice. “Do you think it needs one?”

They both shook their heads. “Maybe just a tiara or something?” Pepper suggested, glancing at the accessories on offer along the far wall.

“Yeah, agreed.”

Maria still wanted the bridesmaid’s to have their hair down, but theirs were simply to be curled. Her own, it was decided, was to be half up and half down, and after a lot of deliberation she picked out a small silver tiara, encrusted with jewels, that was to be woven into the top of her hair, the rest falling in waves around her head.

After they had ensured all the dresses fitting well, they were packed back into their own individual bags, and Melinda took charge of them whilst Pepper sorted out payment. Maria went outside for a moment when her phone rang, and she mouthed that it was Izzy calling before she left.

The assistant called Pepper by name as she thanked them for their custom, and Melinda wondered if she had bought her own wedding dress here.

“Yeah, I did,” Pepper answered, when Melinda posed the question a few minutes later. “And Tony knows the owner anyway,” she said absentmindedly, referring to her husband as she rooted through her handbag in search of her purse. “So he said we should be able to get some discount off these dresses if we use the company card.”

“That’s really nice of them” Melinda replied, remembering that Pepper’s husband Tony was also Steve’s boss; it must have been how they all met. “How much?”

“I’m not too sure, maybe 12%?”

“That’s actually pretty generous.”

“It’s a godsend” Maria added, joining them both at the cash-desk.

Melinda took a final sip of champagne, and relished the feel as the bubbles travelled down her throat. It was fun, playing dress up, and she’d not realised how much she enjoyed it until Maria had made her.

“So,” Pepper continued, turning to smile at Melinda as she handed her credit card over to the cashier. “If you and Phil decide to get married, let me know –“

Melinda choked on the champagne she had been previously enjoying.

“- And I’ll see if I get you a discount on dresses as well.”

She couldn’t even think of an acceptable response, but then again, neither could Maria, who had looked at Melinda as though it was the first time she’d truly realised she was in a relationship with her brother.

Pepper didn’t even try to hide her smirk.

* * *

Melinda sat on a bench sipping her tea, and watched with a smile as Phil pushed Lola on the swings. They had come out to enjoy the early spring sunshine, and had decided that the park was the best place to go. As soon as she’d arrived Lola had charged off towards the playground, and Phil had scarpered after her ensuring she didn’t run in front of one of the swings that was already occupied. Melinda had found herself a bench, and settled down, perfectly content to just watch and drink the tea she’d purchased from the drinks kiosk on site. The stall was slightly hidden away from the rest of the park, and she hadn’t even known it existed until Phil mentioned it one afternoon, having found it himself whilst out with Lola.

It was a mild spring afternoon, and whilst the sun was out, it wasn’t exactly warm, and Melinda shivered a little in the breeze that blew through, sending the fresh green leaves that had just began to grow, dancing in the trees. She’d been so happy to not need her hat and gloves any more, but she knew that coats would still be necessary for quite some time.

After a while, Phil and Lola returned to the bench she was on, and Lola was grinning, her cheeks flushed pink with excitement.

“You have fun?” Melinda asked, as Phil took a seat next to her.

“Yeah!” Lola exclaimed, jumping around the grass and swinging her arms about. “Went on the swings, and the slide, and Daddy let me play on the climbing frame too!”

“Wow,” she replied, smiling at the enthusiasm of the young girl. Melinda wondered if she had ever been that giddy as a child; she could just imagine her mother trying to control her if she had been. “Did you get very high?”

“Almost to the top!” she said happily, before turning to Phil again. “Can we feed the ducks daddy?” Lola begged, dragging Phil by the hand towards the pond across the other side of the park without giving him a chance to question her. He looked back at Melinda helplessly, and she laughed, before binning her empty cup and following them, carrying the small bag of bread they had brought with them for exactly this occasion.

Melinda helped rip up the slices of bread, handing Lola small pieces to throw to the ducks that had gathered in the pond in front of them, clearly used to the feast of bread that accompanied visitors to the park each afternoon.

Lola giggled as several brown ducks began to squabble over a chunk of crust she’d thrown at them, and squealed at the swan that flew towards them, landing in the pond with a gentle splash, and proceeding to patiently wait its own turn to have a piece.

When she got bored of feeding the ducks, Lola decided to feed the pigeons instead, which resulted in Phil frowning and asking her not to as they were considered pests.

“But you said to always share,” she complained with a little pout. “And the ducks probably always get food and the other birds are left out.”

“She has a point,” Melinda murmured, and Phil sighed, nodding to her to continue her mission of making all the wildlife as fat as possible, in as short a time as she apparently was able. He had taught her the basic morals of life – sharing, helping others out etc. – well, and couldn’t really complain she was using them.

“So,” Melinda said quietly, once Lola had happily found herself surrounded by another flock of pigeons. “Natasha was complaining the other day that she was a bit lonely, what do you think about setting her up with Clint?”

One evening the previous week, when she had returned from Phil’s, she’d walked in to find Nat in front of the television watching a soppy romance film, and after joining her she realised that the expression on her friends’ face was slightly of longing when the main characters confessed their love for one another. She’d questioned her, and Natasha had admitted that whilst she was really happy Melinda had found Phil, now she was the only single person in their friendship group, and it made her realise she might just want somebody she could share her own life with.

“Kind of like on a blind date?” Phil asked, watching as Lola proceeded to try and catch a pigeon that was eating some bread she had dropped.

“Why not?” Melinda shrugged. “It could be fun.”

“Yeah, I guess it could,” Phil replied, wrapping his arms around her from behind, and pulling her gently back against him. “I’ll ask him.”

Melinda nodded happily, before leaning against his chest, and laid her arms along the top of his, linking their fingers together. The two of them watched Lola running around the field chasing pigeons until the sun began to set, and the cool evening air left them desperate to find some warmth.

* * *

Phil sat in the staff room, and grabbed another book to mark from the pile next to him.

The principal, Nick Fury, had just left the room, having handed out performance achievements to each member of staff for the previous semester, and Phil was happy to see that he was on target with his classes. But he still wanted to improve on his percentage, and he knew that to get the kids learning in more detail, he would probably have to mark their work in more detail, leaving helpful comments and constructive criticism where necessary. He was getting through the current batch of books, gradually, and was working on them during his lunch so he could spend more time at home in the evenings relaxing with Lola and Melinda.

Next to him sat Clint, who, for once, actually had homework of his own to mark. Teaching PE meant most of his classes’ examinations and assessments were of a more physical nature, such as completing fitness tests under timed conditions, but now Phil was surprised to see his friend going through what appeared to be quizzes.

“Not like you, having things to be marking,” Phil commented, glancing over at the pile of worksheets his friend was ticking off.

“I know,” Clint replied, frowning as he shook his head, his pen making an ‘X’ against one person’s answer. “But I decided to test my ninth grade class on all the muscles of the body.”

“Doing okay?”

“Reckon most would pass, which is good, although this one seems to think the deltoid is in your foot…”

Phil shook his head and laughed a little, looking back down to the book he was currently marking. The kid in question, surprisingly enough, seemed to have got every answer apart from one correct, and Phil realised he must have been doing a slightly better job at teaching them than he’d thought.

“Would you ever consider a blind date?” he asked Clint quietly after a few minutes, glancing around the room to make sure nobody else was listening in to their conversation. Clint looked at him strangely.

“Where the hell did that come from?”

“Just…would you?”

He thought about it for a bit. “Yeah, I don’t see why not, as long as it wasn’t a complete stranger off the street.”

“So,” Phil closed the book and put it onto the table across from the two of them, and grabbing another from the pile next to him. “If Melinda was to ask her friend Natasha the same thing, would you go?”

“Is she hot?”

Phil looked at him pointedly until he grinned.

“Okay, you don’t want to incriminate yourself so you aren’t going to answer me.”

“Yes, she’s attractive,” Phil replied, rolling his eyes. “She’s a dancer; quite laid-back, sarcastic, likes annoying her friends…”

“She sounds like a female version of me.”

“Exactly. I just, I think you’d both get along, and Mel thinks the same.”

Clint put the page he was marking back down, and pulled his phone out of his pocket, proceeding to open up Facebook. “What’s her surname?” he asked, glancing back at Phil and waiting for an answer.

“Tell me you aren’t stalking her?”

“It’s called research Coulson.”

Phil shook his head with a sigh. “If I told you that, then it wouldn’t be a blind date.”

“And?”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know her surname anyway.”

Phil watched as Clint typed in her first name and searched for her; he couldn’t see her picture pop up though, which was probably a good thing, as it defeated the whole idea of a blind date in the first place if he already knew who she was.

“Okay, I can’t find her.” Clint said eventually, turning the app off and beginning to go through the worksheets again. He glanced back up at Phil. “But go for it.”

* * *

“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” Melinda asked Phil grumpily, as she stood applying her mascara in the en-suite bathroom mirror. Phil was in his bedroom getting changed, but she could see his reflection through the open door.

“Because she’s my sister and your best friend?”

“I’d rather stay here,” she said, looking at him through the mirror, and smirking as the gaze of his blue eyes met hers.

“Do not tempt me,” he murmured softly, his eyes not leaving her own as her buttoned his shirt up. She had to make herself look away before she walked over to him and did something that would definitely make them very late.

They had somehow managed to find themselves agreeing to go on a double date with Steve and Maria, and the two of them knew that it would either be a great night out, or a complete and utter disaster. They were booked into a small Turkish restaurant downtown, somewhere neither of them had been before, and the table was booked for eight.

It was currently half seven, and Anne had been around to collect Lola an hour before, wishing them both a lovely night as she whispered promises of chocolate and late nights to her granddaughter; Melinda had laughed when she’d heard the two of them conspiring, and she realised exactly who Maria got her mischievous side from.

Melinda and Maria sat next to each other at the restaurant, and Phil and Steve sat opposite them respectively.

Maria ordered Lahmacun, a pizza-like meal made with minced meat and onion, and served with fresh salad leaves on the side. Steve and Melinda both ordered lamb Köfte: meatballs cooked in spices and served alongside rice and grilled red peppers. Phil tried a little bit of each of their dishes, always willing to experiment with various cuisines – the food scene in Portland had been excellent, and he was used to branching out and trying new things. He also ordered stuffed Dolma, vegetables filled with rice and onion. All four of them cleared their plates. The aromas coming from each dish were heavenly, and the group jointly agreed it was some of the best food they had ever eaten.

The four of them shared two bottles of white wine between them – Phil had only one glass as he was driving – and when the dessert menus arrived, nobody could eat another thing.

They spoke for hours, about all kinds of topics that came up. Melinda and Maria discussed work, and how after the wedding, Maria was going to try and aim for the managerial position of the centre. She was already deputy, but she wanted to go all the way to the top. Steve smiled, proudly telling her how much he loved her ambition, and she blew him a kiss across the table.

Steve was fascinated by Melinda’s active lifestyle, and he revealed himself that he spent a lot of his spare time keeping fit. Not only did he do quite a bit of running, but he also enjoyed boxing, and Melinda agreed the two could meet up one day and work out together; she’d show him her self-defence routines, and the two could then spend sometime in the boxing ring. Phil looked slightly pale during their conversation, as though worried about Melinda getting injured, but he knew she was tough enough to take it – it was her job to know how to block attacks.

Phil spoke about school, and how he felt like he’d really settled into his position there now; the kids were listening to him in class, their performance had increased by a brilliant amount, and he genuinely loved it. He was reminded of his previous conversation with Clint, and turned to Melinda, informing her he’d asked him about the idea of setting him up with Natasha, and Maria’s eyes widened before she grinned.

“You do realise if that worked out, it would be like… the worst pairing in history?”

“Why?” Steve asked; he didn’t know Clint, and had met Natasha only a few times previously.

“Because they are both sarcastic and love to annoy people.”

“Like you?” Melinda teased, and Maria winked at her, raising her glass back to her lips. “You love me for it though.”

“You sure about that?” Phil muttered, and Maria shot him a look that told him to stop whilst he was ahead.

When Steve and Maria began a conversation amongst themselves, Phil took Melinda’s hand across the table, and she simply smiled at him; their conversations needed few words, and they found they were able to communicate through just simply looks at one another. It was something they loved, being so in-sync with one another, although neither had any idea how it had developed so quickly.

When they left the restaurant and headed outside, thanking all of the waiters for the wonderful evening, they found that it had begun to rain at some point, and as Steve and Maria had arrived by taxi, Phil volunteered to drop them home instead of them waiting around. Maria joked that he was their own personal chauffeur, and they laughed, until Phil threatened to throw her out onto the pavement there and then.

When it was finally just the two of them once more, Phil drove around to Melinda’s flat, under the idea she was just going to go inside and grab some spare clothes, before heading back to his for the night.

But the rain seemed to have tripled in strength during their drive, and despite his protests that she should just leave the clothes – she smirked when he suggested she wouldn’t need them anyway – Melinda took a deep breath, and clambered out of the car into the pouring rain.

She was soaked within a few seconds, and knew there was no way she was getting back into his car that wet.

So instead, she opened his driver-side door, and dragged Phil out with her, much to his dismay and confusion.

“What are you doing?” he complained, feeling the water pool down the back of his neck and frowning at her through the downpour.

“Making the most of the situation.”

“What does that mean?”

She simply smirked in response, and took a step towards him, until she was close enough Phil could see individual rain drops resting in her eyelashes.

He then knew exactly what she was doing.

“I’ve always wanted to try this,” she murmured, leaning up onto her tiptoes, and gripping the lapels of his jacket in both hands.

He tangled his hands in her hair, and met her halfway, capturing her lips in a kiss that felt electric; the warmth of her skin against his own versus the cold of rain all around them, sent goose-bumps rippling across his body.

It was possibly the most cliché moment of Melinda’s life, being kissed in the rain, but she damn well loved it.

When they finally got into her flat, she pulled him to the bathroom with her, and they swapped the cold torrent of rain outside for the waterfall of heat that fell from her shower. They might have gotten distracted along the way however, and his car stayed parked outside all night.

* * *

It was a Tuesday evening, and Melinda had spent the last few hours round at Phil’s house, painting pictures of planets with Lola as Phil cooked his daughter’s tea for her, and then later, whilst she was watching the half-hour of television Phil allowed before bed, the two of them had shared a meal of spaghetti in red-wine bolognaise sauce. Melinda was beginning to see that Phil was an excellent cook – much better than herself for sure – and he enjoyed doing it too; he found it relaxing after a long day at work. She loved watching him as he moved naturally around the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up and his tie thrown away, and occasionally Melinda found herself almost purposely trying to distract him while he cooked – more than once their dinner had almost burned because she’d wrapped her arms around his neck.

After they’d eaten, they had fought over the washing up – Melinda insisted she did it as he had cooked, Phil insisted he did it as she was the guest – and they both ended up covered in soap after a playful flick of water at the other turned into a full on bubble fight. The sink needed refilling once they were done, and they had to find towels to dry off their skin and clothing.

Phil lent Melinda a jumper to wear instead of her soaked top, and he changed into a t-shirt and joggers, and a few minutes later joined Lola in the living room. Despite it being almost half past seven, Phil allowed her to stay up a little longer than usual so she could see the end of the film she was watching. Once it ended, she said goodnight to Melinda, giving her another hug – something she was still trying to get used to – and Phil carried her upstairs, promising she could have her favourite story about dragons once again as long as she promised to go straight to sleep.

Melinda stayed downstairs, and flicked through the channels, before finding a film she remembered watching as a child. She watched the rest of it whilst Phil carried out Lola’s bedtime routine, and as the end credits rolled across the screen, and the sound of classical music accompanied the ever-growing list of people involved in the production, she turned the volume down slightly, and could hear the soft tones of Phil’s voice through the ceiling above. He was still reading his daughter her bedtime story of choice right now, and Melinda smiled as she once more moved through the channels to find something else to watch.

She didn’t mind waiting for him.

Phil returned around twenty minutes later, and she glanced up as he entered the room, closing the door quietly behind him as he padded back to the sofa she was curled up on.

“She’s asleep,” he said, as he sat back down beside Melinda, wrapping his hands round her waist and tugging her over to him. She wriggled across and leaned back against his side with a contented sigh, and for a while, they sat in silence, blindly watching whatever was on the channel when Melinda had stopped scrolling through them.

She realised Phil wasn’t paying attention to the screen at all when he nuzzled into her neck from behind, sucking gently on the soft skin in the exact place he knew made her moan. She rolled her head to the side automatically, and he scraped his teeth along the exposed skin below her ear, tugging gently on the lobe as he moved.

“Stay over,” Phil murmured, caressing her neck with his words. He felt her tense up slightly as he spoke however, and knew what she would say before she even opened her mouth.

Melinda sat up then, turning around so she faced him and crossing her legs beneath her, and he pouted slightly in disappointment at the fact her new position meant he’d have to halt what he was obviously enjoying doing very much.

“Phil, I’ve not stayed over yet for a reason.”

“I know,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

They had spoken about their relationship a few times before, and had agreed that for now, she wouldn’t stay over at their house on evenings. Other than New Year, when nothing had happened between them anyway, the evenings she had spent there had resulted in her climbing into a taxi in the early hours, and then returning to her flat. They had only slept together at hers, on the nights his mother had opted to let Lola stay at her house whilst Phil and Melinda went out. It was more for Lola than anything else, to keep her routine going and not introduce too much change into her life at one time, and it worked, but they both knew things would change soon.

“But,” he continued, taking both her hands in his own, and resting them on her crossed legs. “We’ve been together almost three months now, and Lo likes you; I don’t think it would be a problem if she woke up in the morning and you were here.”

“Are you sure?” she asked quietly, biting her lip slightly in concern. Staying meant she would be there for the morning, whilst Phil was getting Lola ready for playgroup, and getting himself ready for work, and she didn’t want to disrupt anything. But she was also his daughter, and if he thought she would be alright with it, then she would trust his judgement completely.

“Yes.” He leaned forwards, placing a gentle kiss on the end of her nose. “What time is your first class tomorrow?” he asked, realising she wouldn’t have any spare clothes with her.

“Ten.”

“I can drop you home on the way to taking her to playgroup?”

She nodded with a small smile, leaning back towards him.

“Okay.”

It was a step for them both, but it was right.

As their lips met once more, he unlinked their hands, wrapping them back around her and pulling her towards him again. She moved closer, and before long was sat on his lap, her knees either side of his legs as she ran her hands through his hair.

It was crazy really, how they could keep themselves almost completely platonic when they needed to, only hand holding and hugs whenever Lola was around, but as soon as she was asleep, or the two were alone, they became consumed by a desperate need for the other.

“Bed… now,” he muttered against her lips, as her hands tugged at the hem of his shirt, trying to lift it off of him where they sat.

She simply nodded, proceeding to caress his skin with burning fingertips, and Phil stood, lifting her up with him as he went and smiling as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

They only just made it to his room before she was tugging the shirt over his shoulders.

As they lay in the comfort of his bed just over an hour later, the warmth of their bodies radiating against one another, their breathing synchronized into a harmonious rhythm. After a while, Phil felt Melinda’s body relax against his completely, and he glanced down at her face, able to tell immediately, and with delight, that she had fallen asleep in his arms, her eyes closed completely, and her lips slightly parted in an adorable oval shape.

She was beautiful, he thought, and he felt an overwhelming sense of happiness at just how amazing his life had become over the past five months. It was practically perfect. She was perfect. He wasn’t sure how he deserved somebody so amazing, especially somebody who considered his daughter in everything they did too.

His internal monologue made him acknowledge something else as well, and as soon as the thought entered his mind he knew it was right; he also couldn’t believe he hadn’t realised it before.

“I love you, Melinda” he murmured, his words spoken softly into the silk of her hair as he gradually fell asleep. He loved her, and whilst that realisation terrified him, especially as it was so soon, one day, after he’d gathered the courage, he knew he would tell her when she was awake to hear him say it.


	8. April

 

**April**

  
  


As maid of honour, it had fallen to Pepper to organise Maria’s hen night, and it was definitely going to be a night to remember.

It wasn’t being held the night before the wedding, as many hen-dos traditionally were, mainly because she wanted to make sure the bride and fellow party-goers were not sat through the ceremony hung-over as fuck.

A very wise move from Pepper, based on how the evening actually went.

She themed the night out to match the colours of the wedding, and all guests had to wear something with the colour of dark pink. Maria wore a short white dress, and Pepper presented her with a silk sash labelling her “bride to be”.

After spending a few hours in various cocktail bars throughout the evening, several members of the party downing shots and mixers like they were going out of fashion, they ended up in a cabaret club downtown called The Hub, and the atmosphere inside screamed PARTY as soon as they walked through the doors.

The whole room was illuminated in shades of neon blue and purple, with disco lights above the dance floor, and spotlights on the bar. There were velvet seats surrounding black glittery tables, and their party was led to a couple that were reserved solely for their use across the night.

The dance-floor was filled with other parties, from fellow hen-dos to themed fancy dress birthday parties, and there were a couple of silver poles across from them that were open for use by any visitor. Melinda had a funny feeling at least half their group would end up dancing round them before the night was over – especially Maria and Natasha – and if that happened she was determined to gain photographic evidence to blackmail them with.

The cocktails at the bar were named after famous divas, and whilst Maria ordered a “Shirley Bassey Blend”, Melinda, Izzy, and Izzy’s girlfriend Victoria, all went for the “Tina Turner Twist”. The whole group chinked glasses with a celebratory “cheers” before they began to truly party.

At some point, a tray of vodka jelly shots was brought to their tables, and everybody consumed a minimum of two each, some downing them one after the other. They were stronger than Melinda had realised, and after a while she found herself a lot drunker than she had been in a very long time.

Pepper revealed to Melinda and Bobbi that she had been through multiple discussions with herself over whether or not to hire a stripper for the evening, but in the end had decided not to, and she felt great relief that Maria was happy with her decision.

Every half hour throughout the night, a bell was rung in the club, and it signified everybody being required to take their seats. Once all revellers were at their tables, the next drag show would commence, and they ranged from the more diva-like Whitney Houston show, with the ballad of “I Will Always Love You” being a particular crowd favourite, to a full out Weather Girls routine to “It’s Raining Men!”, complete with sprinkler system rain across the stage.

They didn’t leave until the club itself closed around four am, and several of them ended up heading back to Maria’s house to continue the party.

The sash Maria had been wearing labelling her as the “bride to be”, had somehow ended up tied around the tree in their front garden, and Steve had awoken to a party going on outside the house. He’d shaken his head bemusedly as he awoke to the sound of singing, and opened the front door for them, so that at least the neighbours didn’t complain about the noise.

After hearing in drunken semi-rambling speech about their night, he organised taxi’s for the few who were coherent enough to give him an address, and before she knew it Melinda was stood outside Phil’s house, not entirely too sure why she’d asked the taxi driver to drop her there instead of her own flat.

It appeared however that Steve had called Phil to let him know she was on her way, as when she stumbled from the taxi he opened his front door, and wandered down the steps in his pyjamas, into the early hours of morning light to get her.

“I’ve never been so drunk in my life” she whispered loudly in greeting, looking around to see if people were listening as the taxi drove away. Phil chuckled despite the situation, and he looped an arm round her waist, guiding her into the house and towards the kitchen, where he proceeded to pour her a large glass of water; he’d never seen her like this, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to do.

When he handed her the drink, she succeeded in splashing half of it back onto the work-surface as she put it down again, reaching out for him and pulling him against her.

“You smell nice,” she muttered into his t-shirt, winding her arms up around his neck before talking to him in what he could only assume was Mandarin. In all fairness, the words coming from her lips sounded beautiful and poetic, but for all he knew she may have been whispering to him about a movie she saw the previous week.

“You smell of alcohol,” he replied with a grin, kissing her hair and holding her against him. “It’s almost five am, come to bed.”

She let him take her hand and lead her upstairs, watching as the walls around her span in circles whilst she moved. Clearly the shots had been her undoing.

Never again.

By the time he managed to get her through the bedroom door, she had her hands under his shirt, and Phil had to hold onto her wrists whilst he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Make love to me?” she asked with a lazy grin, nipping at his jaw with her teeth as she pulled him towards his bed.

He was thankful more than ever before that Lola was at his mother’s house, because Melinda didn’t exactly appear to be a quiet drunk, nor did she seem to have any concept for the fact others might’ve been able to hear what she was saying.

“Phillll” she grumbled when he didn’t reply, climbing up onto the bed in her full part outfit, dragging him with her, laying her head down onto his pillow as the room continued to spin.

As much as he loved her, Phil really wasn’t comfortable with having sex with her whilst she was as drunk as she was. But in the end the decision was made for him, as only a few moments later Melinda passed out with a sigh, her eyes rolling back slightly into her head as consciousness left her, and mumbling something incoherent in what he again could only guess to be Mandarin.

He was definitely going to have to see if she’d speak it once she was sober again. But he also had to wonder if she would remember any of this when she woke up the next day.

“Oh Mel, what’re you like?” he murmured, brushing her hair away from her face and rolling her onto her side, before going to the bathroom and bringing the bin in – just in case she decided to throw up in the next few hours. He sat by her feet and removed her shoes, before leaning up to lay the covers down over the top of her. Switching off the lamp on his bedside table, he curled himself up on the side she normally slept on, and sighed, watching the sunrise begin to illuminate the room with a gentle glow.

He was going to kill Maria. Or Pepper.

Somebody.

 

* * *

Melinda peeled her eyes open, immediately closing them again when the light decided to burn her eyes. It took a few moments to realise that the pounding noise she could hear, was the blood in her head, and she groaned, knowing full well that she was going to spend the day nursing the hangover from hell.

She really should have said no to those jelly shots.

She took a deep breath to try and oxygenate her mind, before pausing, realising the pillow did not smell like it normally did; it smelled of Phil, which could only really mean…

She opened her eyes again and looked around, noticing for the first time she was in Phil’s bedroom. She had no recollection of actually getting there, the last thing she actually recalled being heading to Maria’s house after the club closed.

“Good morning.”

The low tones of Phil’s voice led her to roll over, wondering how he had known she was awake when she hadn’t even moved. The look on her face clearly said the same thing, because Phil smiled softly at her before indicating to the mirror behind her.

“I saw your eyes open in the reflection.”

“What am I doing here?”

Phil blinked before frowning slightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Melinda realised she must look an absolute state, with her previous evenings make-up accompanied by an ashen hung-over face.

“Do you not remember?”

She shook her head, regretting the motion immediately and wincing; it felt like her head had been locked in a vice. Phil immediately climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom, and Melinda heard him rummaging through the cupboard above the sink before turning the tap on. He returned with a glass of water and a packet of ibuprofen, both of which she took gratefully.

“Thanks.”

“So you… don’t remember getting the taxi here?” he asked, lying himself back down next to her. “Or spilling water everywhere? Or,” he smirked suddenly, and she began to dread hearing what else she had done. “You don’t recall begging me to make love to you before passing out?”

_ Shit. _

“Please tell me I didn’t.”

“But that would be a lie.”

She groaned again, swallowing two tablets and gulping down the full glass he had given her, placing the empty glass onto the bedside table and hiding her face with her hands.

“I am so embarrassed.”

“I’ve never seen you like that… thought you said you could handle your alcohol?”

“I can… normally.”

“So, what do you remember?”

“I think there was pole dancing. I know there were vodka shots.”

“Was it a good night though?”

“From what I remember? Yeah, it was really good.”

“That’s alright then,” he smiled, before shuffling over to kiss her forehead. “Would you like me to make you breakfast?”

“Are you sure? I feel like I should just go back home and wallow in shame.”

Phil laughed. “Stay here, I’ll bring you something up.” With that he climbed back out of bed, and headed out the room. Melinda listened to the sound of him wandering downstairs before clattering around the kitchen, and she wondered how on earth she had met somebody so perfect.

Because he really was.

As he cooked, she finally got out of bed, and headed into the bathroom, looking at her reflection with a small shake of the head. Her lipstick was gone, and her eyeliner was smudged under her eyes a little, but in fairness she didn’t look anywhere near as bad as she had been worrying.

Melinda proceeded to turn the taps on, filling the sink with cold water and washing the last traces of the previous night off her face. The temperature of the water woke her up a little, and when she rummaged around in the cupboard under the sink, she managed to find an unopened toothbrush; she hoped Phil wouldn’t mind, but she really needed to get the taste of vodka out of her mouth.

Five minutes later she was freshened up and sat cross-legged on his bed, practising a few tai-chi moves to help cleanse her mind, when she heard Phil return up the stairs. She opened the door for him, and he came in with two plates of freshly made waffles, and two steaming hot mugs – one filled with coffee, and the other green tea. She smiled at him in thanks as he handed her one of the portions, and they sat back down on his duvet.

Breakfast in bed. Quite the luxury.

They ate the waffles in the quiet, Melinda relishing both the sweet taste of cinnamon he had sprinkled over the top, and the fact her head no longer felt like it was about to explode.

“You’re amazing, Phil, you know that?” she told him, once they had both finished their food, and placed the plates onto their respective tables.

“I know,” he replied, a small smirk playing on his lips at her words.

Melinda just rolled her eyes at him, sighing as she sipped her tea. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Yes you do.”

She laughed a little, shaking her head. “Why? Because from what I recall I just arrived in the middle of the night uninvited, woke you up completely wasted...

“I don’t care,” he looked at her with a small smile, and she could see surprising a trace of fear flash across his face as he took a deep breath; she wondered what was going through his mind. “I don’t care about any of that,” he continued. “Because I love you, Melinda.”

She stared at him in shock, her mug halfway to her lips, having not expected anything even remotely like that confession to come up right now.

“I know it hasn’t even been that long, and you don’t have to say it back or anything,” he rambled, a slight pink blush creeping into his cheeks as he spoke. “But I needed you to know. I love you. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now and –“

“Phil?” she interrupted, placing her mug back onto the table and reaching out, taking hold of both his hands in her own.

“Yeah?”

Melinda smiled, wider than she had done for a very long time. “I love you too.”

“Are you sure you’re not still drunk?” Phil asked, but the matching smile on his own face told her he was only joking.

Melinda laughed. “I’m sure.”

* * *

As a promise to Lola, Phil agreed that for her birthday he would take her to Build-A-Bear, and let her create a personalised teddy for her room. She was beyond excited, having seen a girl at playgroup with one of the customised products, and had begged him for one of her own as soon as she had returned home that day.

Melinda was unfortunately working, covering the evening classes that another staff member usually took; they were on holiday for two weeks, and she had been given the task of taking over for a while. She’d said it didn’t bother her too much, and she was happy for the extra money, and she would be there for Lola’s birthday party on the Saturday after next anyway. As much as Phil loved Melinda, it also meant that he and Lola could spend some time together just the two of them, like it used to be.

She wandered up and down the aisle, looking through the selection of creations she could choose from. There were over thirty different bears, from the traditional brown fluffy teddy, right up to a rainbow patterned panda bear. There were toys of animals from every corner of the earth, including spiders, owls, elephants and snakes. But the selection she seemed the most excitable about were those that Phil would class as fantasy – from dragons to mermaids, fairies to ghosts. After a great deal of deliberation, and several last minute choice alterations that meant Phil at one point was holding five toys at once, Lola decided upon a white unicorn, complete with a silver horn, and a pale green feather-like mane and tail. She held it out to Phil with a huge smile on her face, and he happily lead her over to the next stage.

“Would you like to choose a heart for your unicorn?” the assistant asked, smiling at Lola and offering a box full of multi-coloured metallic fabric hearts to her. Lola rummaged around the tub until she found a shiny two-coloured one, violet on one side and green on the other, and handed it back with a shy smile.

“Very nice,” the guy said, before leading them over to the machine where Lola’s toy was about to take shape. “Now, we’ll put the heart into this slot here –“ he placed the fabric into the machine, “and then if you press that green button, your unicorn will get filled with stuffing and brought to life.”

Lola looked to Phil, who smiled in encouragement, before stepping forward, and pushing the button with one hand – the other held tightly onto Phil’s. The two of them watched as the glittery machine whirred to life, air blowing into the unicorn to open it out, before a second bright green tube began to pump stuffing into the toy. Lola smiled as the heart she had selected shot down a third tube, before being picked up by a small grabbing crane, and being placed inside the toy. The final stage involved a pair of rainbow patterned needles, which proceeded to stitch up the back of the toy with speed and precision.

The assistant switched the machine off, before opening the glass door and taking out the finished product, handing it to Lola with a smile.

“Congratulations, it’s a unicorn.”

Phil thanked the guy from both of them, before leading Lola over to the certification booth.

“Hello,” the lady behind the desk greeted.  “I’m going to fill out the certificate for your unicorn, okay?”

Lola nodded.

“Right, first things first, is it a boy unicorn, or a girl unicorn?”

Lola didn’t even look at the toy in her arms before considering her decision. “Boy.”

“Okay,” she said, ticking the relevant box on the paper in front of her. “What would you like to name him?”

“Bruce.”

“Bruce, are you sure?”

She nodded determinedly, and the lady signed his name along the top of the certificate.

Phil wondered vaguely why Lola had picked the name she had, but shrugged it off – this was her present, and she had her reasons.

“There you go,” the assistant said, handing the page over to them, which Phil took to prevent it getting creased.

“Thank you.”

“If you would like to choose some clothes or accessories for him,” the lady added with a smile as she watched Lola hugging the unicorn. “They are just over there.” She indicated across the store, and Phil thanked her once more, before taking Lola’s hand and getting her attention.

“Would you like to choose anything else?”

She shook her head. “No, he’s perfect as he is.”

Phil smiled and nodded, before leading her over to the tills, where Phil explained to them it was a gift. The staff member then wrapped Bruce up in tissue paper, before placing him into a large box with ribbon handles, and handed him back with a jokey warning. “No opening until your birthday, okay?”

Lola nodded vehemently in understanding, and Phil stroked the top of her head as he handed over his credit card.

* * *

“Hey Nat,” Melinda mouthed, as she walked in from work to find her friend leaning against the kitchen counter, chatting away on the phone in Russian to who Melinda guessed was her sister.

Natasha waved in greeting, and Melinda headed back into the lounge to wait for her to finish, sitting down onto the sofa with a sigh. Covering extra shifts was tiring her out physically and mentally, and she honestly looked forward to spending the night in front of the TV with Nat, before going to bed as early as she could reasonably get away with.

When Nat joined her around ten minutes later, Melinda was already falling asleep, and it was only the knowledge that she needed to talk to her that was keeping her conscious.

“Mel, you look exhausted,” she said in greeting, throwing herself down onto the sofa next to her with a sympathetic smile. “You’re working too hard.”

“It’s only for two weeks” she pointed out; she’d worked long hours before, and she could do them now.

“Yeah,” Natasha argued. “But you’re working full time, plus extra shifts, and you’re seeing Phil most nights, and you’re somehow finding time to meet your mother next weekend as well.”

“I’m… wait, what?” Melinda asked, the end of her sentence catching her attention. “I’ve not seen my mother in ages.”

“Oh, well she rang yesterday when you were at work, and said she’d see me next Saturday when she came down.” Natasha shrugged her shoulders. “I assumed you knew?”

“No.” It was just like her mother, turning up practically unannounced for visits, giving Melinda little time to prepare. She thought that a person should always be ready to accept company, and it was a way she had tested her daughter ever since she had moved out aged nineteen.  “Did she say she was staying over?” she asked, a frown forming on her face.

“I’m not sure; sorry… why?”

Melinda rolled her head back onto the couch, and closed her eyes with a sigh. “It’s Lola’s birthday, and Phil’s throwing her a party that weekend.”

“Ah.”

“I told her that the other week.”

“You think she’s coming on purpose?”

“Yep.” Melinda knew full well why her mother had chosen that particular weekend to come down to visit her, out of any she could pick. “She’s going to insist on meeting him.”

“Good luck with that one,” Natasha smirked, rising back up from the sofa as the oven timer in the kitchen began to beep. “I made pizza, do you want some?”

She nodded weakly, and Natasha walked off to grab them the food.

“Right,” Melinda said, once the two had split the large vegetable pizza between two plates. “You were saying the other night you wanted to meet someone?”

“I think my exact words were I’m tired of being alone.”

“Same thing” she shrugged, taking a bite of the slice she had hold of, tasting the richness of tomato sauce that could only mean Natasha had bought a more expensive brand than the value range for once.

“Why?”

“Would you consider a blind date?”

“With who?” Natasha frowned, watching her friend warily and grabbing a second slice for herself.

“Phil’s friend, Clint.”

"What’s he like?”

Melinda shrugged slightly, not sure how to describe him. “What is this, fifty questions? He’s a bit jokey, sarcastic, Phil said he’s quite active; he teaches PE, does archery in his free time...”

“Have you met him?”

Melinda nodded,resisting the urge to roll her eyes as Natasha asked yet another question on purpose.

“Okay then,” she agreed, “but under one condition.”

“What?”

“You both come too, so if it’s a total disaster, I can talk to you, and he can talk to Phil.”

That sounded fair enough. Melinda picked up another slice with a smile; she’d never played matchmaker before, but she was kind of hopeful this would be a success.

* * *

“Natasha told you I was coming to visit, yes?”

Her mother's greeting as soon as she picked up the phone almost made Melinda laugh. Tian May got straight down to the point of things, no question about that.

“Hello Mama.” Melinda wandered around her bedroom, staring out of the window towards the distant city. “Yes, she did.”

“Good. I’ll stay one night. The sofa is fine.”

“If you wish.” She had offered her mother her own bed on many a previous occasion, but she always said no.

“Yes. And I wish to discuss Phillip with you.”

Great, Melinda thought.

“You are in a relationship with him now?”

“Yes.” Melinda sighed, looking away from the window, and sitting down on the edge of her bed, the mattress sinking slightly as she pulled her legs up to cross beneath her. “I am.”

“A proper one?”

“No, a fake one.” She rolled her eyes. What did she think Melinda did with her life?

“Less of the sarcasm, Lian, it does nothing to appeal you. Now, you are sleeping with him, no?”

“Mama!” She widened her eyes and shook her head; Melinda really did not want to have this conversation, but it was just like her mother to completely pry into the details in order to get a picture of what her daughter’s life was like.

Tian went quiet for a moment, but Melinda could picture her nodding, not needing her confirmation because she would know the answer already. Her mother saw sex as something between two people who truly cared for one another, so in her opinion, it meant the two were definitely serious about one another if they were sleeping together.

“In that case, I wish to meet him… don’t roll your eyes like that.”

Melinda stared at the phone, wondering how her mother knew what she was doing, before shaking her head. She had known full well the request was coming. Her mother had previously only met two of her old partners; the first one she apparently scared off by asking him if he had plans to wed her daughter in the spring, and the second she deemed completely unacceptable and hinted multiple times to Melinda that it would not work out.

Since then, she hadn’t let her meet anybody else, but she had to admit, looking back, her mother had been right on both counts, and despite her conflicted feelings about her meeting Phil, she did want to see what her impression would be of him. She wanted her to like him, so much.  

“Okay,” Melinda relented, absently picking up the snow-globe Phil had bought that rested on her bedside table, and turning it upside down, watching the flakes cover the park scene in front of her. “I’ll speak to him.”

“And if I don’t think he is good enough for you –“

“- Then I won’t care.”

They were both as stubborn as each other, but Tian May knew based on her response that she must genuinely care for Phillip; her daughter would more than likely stay with him regardless of what she thought of him. She hmmm-ed in response.

“I will see you on Saturday, Qiao Lian.”

“Goodbye Mama.”

* * *

“My mother is coming down this weekend, “ Melinda revealed quietly, purposely looking anywhere but Phil’s eyes as she spoke. “She said she wants to meet you.”

Phil leaned his right hip against the kitchen counter, and frowned slightly at her words; he vividly recalled Maria telling him at Christmas that Melinda’s mother was a little strict, and that she would dislike him on sight.

They were both in Melinda’s kitchen, and Lola was currently watching whatever Natasha had deemed appropriate for her on the television - which was more than likely going to be a big mistake. In honesty, Phil and Lola had only come to the girls’ flat so that they could drop Melinda off, but then Lola had wanted to see where she lived and Natasha had lured his daughter in with the promise of chocolate and half an hour later they were still there.

“Meet as in, hello it’s nice to get to know you?” he asked her cautiously. “Or meet as in, I’m now going to assess whether you are good enough for my daughter?”

Melinda punched him gently on the arm, but she knew his second suggestion was much more realistic. Her lack of response seemed to inform him of that fact as well.

“She’s just a bit... protective” she sighed,

“I get that” he replied softly.

Melinda knew he understood; he was protective of his own daughter, and she could just imagine how much more so he would be when Lola was old enough to start dating. The difference was however, Melinda was twenty-eight years old, but her mother was still assessing her potential partners as though she were a teenager.

“It’ll be fine,” Phil smiled lightly. “Next weekend… so does she want to come to Lola’s birthday?”

“I…” Melinda could just imagine her mother sitting in the corner of the party on her own, shrewdly observing every minute detail about the way her daughter acted and spoke to people.

“It’ll be fine,” Phil said softly, watching as she bit her lower lip slightly in concern. “She’ll like me… you like me, right?”

“Not really” she teased. He raised an eyebrow at her in response.

“Is that so?” he asked quietly, taking a step forwards and trailing his fingers down her side. “Because that’s not the opinion I got last night.”

“You and I have a slightly different arrangement” she replied with a smirk, tangling her fingers through his own when they reached her hip.

“Only slightly?”

“I hope it’s more than slightly” Natasha said suddenly, walking into the room with a grin. She turned to the two of them with a smirk. “Phil, your daughter just said she’s hungry, so unless you let go of your girlfriend and take the poor child to get some dinner, I’m going to ply her with a ton of crisps and fizzy drinks okay?”

“Please don’t.”

“Okay,” Natasha mock frowned, pausing halfway towards the fridge as though deep in thought. “Vodka then?”

“You’d better take Lola and run before she ends up getting her first hangover” Melinda whispered to him.

“I hope she handles it better than you.”

Melinda tsked, punching him once more, and Phil grinned at her. “Okay, right I’m going.”

He unlinked their fingers and cupped her face in his hands, kissing her deeply as Natasha left the room again with a groan.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied, looking up at him with a smile. “See you tomorrow.”

* * *

“Phil,” Melinda said, taking a deep breath that she hoped she’d been subtle about hiding. “This is my mother, Tian May… Mama, this is Phil.”

“Hello Phillip” Tian said with a nod, making a very obvious visual assessment as she looked him up and down. Melinda glared at her from next to Phil, and she brushed her daughter’s expression away with a wave of her hand.

“Lovely to meet you,” Phil replied, to his credit, not seeming fazed at all by the situation. “Would you like me to get you a drink? We have tea, wine, fruit juice...”

“Water will suffice, thank you.”

Phil nodded, and with a small smile to Melinda, he headed off indoors to get a glass of water for Tian.

“He is very polite” she said simply, before turning away from Melinda and heading over to sit on an empty bench at the side of the garden. Melinda shook her head exasperatedly - what sort of assessment was ‘polite’? - and was going to follow, when she was attacked by a small pair of arms around her legs.

“Melinda!”

“Hey Lola,” she replied, spinning round to find the girl grinning up at her with what looked like chocolate all over her face. “Happy Birthday!”

“Thank youuuu… do you want to meet my friends?”

She dragged Melinda over to where there was a group of about eight other children, all around the same age as Lola, and began to introduce them all individually. She lost track of the names, but quickly gathered all the kids went to playgroup together.

She could feel her mother watching her the entire time.

* * *

“Happy Birthday kid!”

“Auntie Maria!”

Lola ran full speed across the garden and into the arms of her favourite – and only – aunt. Phil watched from a distance with a smile as she then hugged Steve, and his smile turned into a full blown grin when he saw the gift from them that Lola was currently unwrapping on the grass.

A stuffed dragon toy, almost the same size as herself. It was bright red, with sparkling wings and a stream of metallic fabric flowing from its mouth as fire.

He had no idea where it was going to live – the collection of soft toys she owned was growing larger every year – but the look of pure joy on Lola’s face was priceless.

“You really spoil her” Phil said to his sister in greeting, once Lola had picked up the dragon – no easy feat – and carried it off across the garden to show to her grandmother.

“Yeah, well” Maria replied, giving Phil a shoulder bump, and turning to watch her niece parading the toy around all the rest of the guests. “She’s worth it.”

“That she is,” he murmured, smiling as Melinda became the recipient of said dragon. He could see her enthusiasm for the toy from the other side of the garden, and Maria had to punch him in the arm to get him to stop watching them.

“Seriously Phil, you could do something other than stare at you girlfriend all day.”

“I’m watching Lola.”

“Bullshit, you have that soppy I’m-totally-in-love look on your face.”

He shrugged a little, and continued watching them. “Your point?”

Maria turned to face him properly, and frowned a little at his response. “Not denying it then?”

“Nope.”

“Wait.” She looked at the way he was staring at her friend, eyebrows rising as she realised what he was saying. “You’re in love with her?”

Phil finally turned away from where Melinda and Lola were sat on the grass, Melinda pretending to attack Lola with the giant toy dragon. He looked his sister straight in the eye.

“Yes.”

“Wow” Maria murmured, clearly having not thought the two of them were so serious about each other; when they had first starting seeing one another, she and Natasha had placed bets on how long it would last; she’d voted for them just casually dating for a while before ending things. Looked like she owed Nat $50.

It was good to see them so happy though, no matter how much she tended to jibe them about it.

“You sound surprised.”

“No, it’s just… I didn’t think you were both so serious about this.” She held her hands up a little in apology. “Okay,” she smiled at him, resting a hand on his arm. “I guess I’ll try to stop winding you both up about it from now on.”

“Good,” Phil grinned, knowing full well that was bullshit and she would keep going, but appreciating the offer all the same.

“So…” she said after a moments silence. “When’s the wedding?”

She’d proved him right within ten seconds.

* * *

The rest of the party passed almost in a blur.

Melinda had tried speaking to her mother, not wanting her to be sat alone amongst people she did not know, but each time Tian ushered her away, telling her to be sociable and mingle, and that she was perfectly content to just watch.

They had lit the candles on Lola’s birthday cake earlier on, and everybody had stood around in the spring sunshine singing to her, before she tightly closed her eyes and made a wish. Phil sliced the cake up into pieces, and Melinda handed it out on paper plates, passing pink patterned napkins out alongside each slice.

When she glanced over for what felt like the tenth time that afternoon, she found that her mother was currently sat talking to Anne - Melinda had a horrible feeling they were discussing her and Phil. Anne was looking fondly at her son, who was currently stood across the garden, talking to one of the parents who had come to pick their child up, and Tian was nodding to whatever she was saying. When her mother sensed her watching, and turned to look at her, Melinda walked off to get herself another drink.

When she poured a glass of whatever the fruit juice was in a tall glass jug, she glanced in the opposite direction, and found Steve and Maria deep in conversation about something, the two of them standing slightly away from the rest of the party. Steve kept smiling and gesturing to where Lola was playing, but Maria seemed to be panicking, pointing to herself, to him, and then to her dress. Melinda frowned, wondering what was up, and watched surreptitiously as Steve pulled his fiancé into a hug, kissing her forehead gently as he held her. She decided to leave them to it; it was probably wedding related, although she couldn’t work out what.

“Qiao Lian.” Her mothers voice startled her, and she turned around to find her standing right in front of her.

“Yes, Mama.”

“I am going to leave now, I have called a taxi.”

Melinda frowned slightly, placing her drink back onto the table in front of her. “Are you not staying at ours?” Her mother did not change plans spontaneously.

Tian shook her head and patted her daughter’s arm. “No child, I shall return to my own house tonight, thank you.”

At that moment, Phil arrived at the table, standing next to Melinda and sliding his arm loosely around her waist.

“Goodbye Phillip.” Tian said, nodding at him with a tiny smile. “Thank you for the party. It was enlightening.”

Melinda wasn’t sure what to make of that, and apparently, neither was Phil, because it took him several seconds to come up with a reasonable response.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. It was lovely to meet you.”

Tian May nodded at him once more, before turning, and heading into the house, making her way towards the front door, picking up her coat from the bannister on the way. Melinda followed, shrugging at Phil as he silently questioned her mother leaving, and walked behind her until they got into the hallway.

“Why are you not staying, Mama?”

Tian stepped from the house, and walked down the drive, before turning to her daughter. “I feel you shall be staying here instead, and I should not wish to burden Natasha.”

Melinda tried not to blush, she honestly did.

“I was planning to come home tonight.”

“No. You have your own life. You should stay here, with them.”

“Do you like him then, Mama?” Melinda asked, as a silver taxi pulled up in front of the house, nodding at them in greeting as he mounted the kerb.

Tian observed her daughter carefully, taking note of the way she was wringing her hands behind her back in an attempt to keep herself seeming relaxed. “Yes Qiao Lian,” she said simply, with a small nod. “I like him.”

Melinda breathed a sigh of relief. “And Lola?”

“Is a lovely child, and you are very natural with her” she replied quietly, before looking into her daughter’s eyes seriously. “I have never seen you being maternal Lian; it suits you.”

With that she patted her daughter on the arm, and turned away, climbing into the taxi that was waiting for her.

It was the first time Tian had approved of somebody Melinda was in a relationship with, but it was also the first time it had genuinely and truly mattered to Melinda. She had never felt so relieved, and couldn’t help the smile that grew across her lips at her mother’s words.

Although she wasn’t sure about the maternal part...


	9. May

**May**

 

Between the four of them, it was decided that the blind date between Natasha and Clint would take place in the first week of May, and Phil and Melinda both themselves felt slight pressure about it actually working out.

If it didn’t, they would get the blame from either side for setting them up with someone completely unsuitable. If it did, then they’d probably spend the rest of their lives regretting it, because chaos would ensue.

Clint had suggested that rather than going on a traditional romantic meal, which could, in fairness, go terribly wrong if he and Natasha did not get along, that they should all do something more light hearted and relaxed. He opted, after much deliberation, that they could all go bowling for the evening.

Clint and Natasha couldn’t keep their eyes of each other from the moment they met, and Phil and Melinda both had a pretty strong feeling that their little matchmaking scheme was going to be a grand success.

“I’m a bit rusty,” Phil muttered, after he managed to bowl his ball straight into the gutters. “I haven’t played since college.”

Melinda picked up her own ball, and grinned at him.

“We’re going to beat you, you know that?”

“Are you just naturally skilled at this? Or trying to make me feel bad?”

Melinda shrugged with a tiny smirk. “Same thing.”

She swung her arm back, and released the bowling ball, getting a complete strike and smiling at Phil sweetly as she walked back to her seat.

“And you are a little rusty.”

He glared at her, before proceeding to match her score.

Game on.

* * *

“You’d better score something higher soon Coulson,” Clint muttered to his friend, as Natasha proceeded to match another of Melinda’s previous strikes with more grace than Clint had ever seen. “Because I’m really starting to root for this girl.”

Guys vs. girls had seemed like a great idea to begin with, but Clint and Phil were falling behind quickly as Melinda and Natasha teamed up, and whipped them into second place with strike after strike.

Natasha twirled around to stick her tongue out at Clint as she scored yet another, and he shook his head with a smirk.

He liked her. She seemed great, and he had to admit Phil had been right by saying she was like a male version of him.

“So, you dance?” he asked her, after they finished their first game and Phil had gone to pay for a second.

“Yeah.” She sipped on her drink. “I began with the Russian Bolshoi as a child, but now I’m with the American Ballet Theatre.”

“That’s amazing.”

She shrugged. “It’s fun, but a lot of travelling…” She trailed off as she put her drink back onto the table next to her, before refastening the laces on her bowling shoes. “Mel said you do archery?”

Clint nodded.

“You any good?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Better than good. You should come out with me one weekend, have a go. I find my target every time.”

“We still talking about archery?”

Melinda rolled her eyes and walked away, heading off to find Phil, mentally reprimanding herself for thinking this would be a good idea.

* * *

When they ended their third game around two hours later, Melinda was almost one-hundred percent convinced Clint and Natasha were perfect for one another. They hadn’t stopped talking all night, and she surreptitiously watched as Clint’s gaze followed Natasha around the room in awe, as though she were an angel descended from heaven.

She and Natasha won by a huge margin, despite Phil’s desperate attempts to try and put her off by wrapping his arms around her and kissing her neck. She’d simply looked at him with a smirk and bowled without looking, managing to hit down ¾ of the balls just like that.

They only stopped their teasing when Clint threatened to turn his hearing aid off, so he didn’t have to listen to Natasha bragging about how much they had won by. She quietened down, but still kept shooting grins in his direction as though to rub it in some more.

They left the centre and headed next door to a bar, just somewhere the two could get to know each other a little better. Clint and Natasha took a table across the room, whilst Phil and Melinda decided to give them some space, and stood together at the bar.

When Melinda turned around half an hour later, she found the two of the currently rather preoccupied.

She raised her eyebrows at Phil. “You think they’ll mind if we go?”

“I don’t think they’d even notice.”

He took her hand, and together they walked over to the table Natasha and Clint were sharing. There were several empty beer bottles on the table, and the two were happily engaged in conversation as though the only two in the room.

“You guys okay if we leave?” Phil asked, stopping in front of them with a smirk.

“I think we’ll be fine,” Clint replied, not taking his eyes of Natasha. “Right?”

She glanced over to Melinda with a smile. “Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

Success.

* * *

 

Phil’s class trip to Washington was due to take place on the second week of May, and he was probably more excited than his own students for all the different locations they were going to see. It only felt like a week before that he had been sat in his kitchen signing letters for each pupil, and suddenly three months had passed and the select few were on their way.

They were going for three days, leaving early on the Monday morning, and returning late Wednesday afternoon.

Anne was looking after Lola on the Monday, taking her to playgroup and letting her stay at her house overnight; Maria was taking care of her on the Tuesday, doing the same thing, although probably with a lot more chocolate and excess carnage; Melinda surprised herself, by offering to do the Wednesday shift.

“Are you sure?” Phil asked her when she suggested it. “I can ask Maria to do two days?”

“We’ll be fine,” she replied, before turning to Lola with a smile. “Won’t we?”

The girl jumped up and down happily, her fair hair flying around her face. “We can bake!”

“Yeah we can.”

* * *

By Wednesday night, she was desperately regretting her offer.

Melinda had picked Lola up from playgroup after work, around half four, and had immediately known they weren’t going to have a lovely calm evening.

Her teacher had come over to Melinda when she saw Lola with her, and proceeded to inform her that she was very tired, and had dozed over during the afternoon play session. Melinda looked down at Lola, and could tell she was more subdued than she’d seen her before, simply standing next to her and sucking her thumb, her backpack on the ground by her feet.

“I’m not sure if she got much sleep last night,” the teacher murmured, “and she keeps saying she wants her dad.” Melinda nodded and thanked her, assuring her Phil would be back that evening, and she would get a lot of sleep tonight.

Damn it Maria, so much for looking after her. Melinda had a pretty good idea she’d have let Lola stay up half the night watching tv or playing games or something.

When the two got back to Phil’s house - they had practically walked in silence, despite Melinda’s attempts to make conversation with her - she headed straight to the kitchen to make her some tea, knowing that the quicker she got her fed, the quicker she could go upstairs and get some much needed sleep.

“I miss Daddy.”

Melinda turned back around when she was halfway out of the room, and smiled sympathetically at her. “He’s on his way back now, he’ll be home soon.”

“I want him now.”

“Soon.”

“Now!”

Lola glared at her for arguing, and Melinda raised her eyebrows slightly, having never seen her lose her temper before, but dismissed it as tiredness, and attempted to distract her with something else.

“I’ll make you some chocolate milk, and then we can find some tea, okay?”

Lola ignored her, but walked slowly to the kitchen regardless. Melinda followed cautiously; she had a funny feeling that there were going to be tears tonight.

“What would you like for tea?” she asked, after she had mixed cocoa powder with milk in Lola’s favourite beaker; it was purple, with dragons, mermaids and unicorns all around the sides, and a second layer filled with glitter that moved as the cup was drank from.

“Daddy makes chicken nuggets, with red sauce, and chips.”

“Well, there aren’t any in the freezer I’m afraid,” she said, rummaging around to find anything that resembled a chicken nugget. “So you’ll have to choose something else.”

“No.”

She looked at Melinda with a scowl, and pouted as she almost dared the older woman to yell at her.

“Lola -”

“I want chicken nuggets!”

“You can have pizza?” she offered instead, showing her the large pepperoni pizza in the fridge. “Or fish fingers?”

“No.”

“Well you’ll have to starve then” she said with a shrug, closing both the fridge and freezer and looking at her, hands on her hips. She was in charge, not the five year old.

“Fine.”

Lola stalked from the room and Melinda shook her head. It was obvious she was tired, and her apparent moodiness was more than likely due to a combination of both that, and missing her dad.

Melinda took several deep breaths as she not only heard the television get turned on, but also as Lola raised to volume level to one way above the regular; she then stood in the doorway watching Melinda, almost daring her to say something.

Instead Melinda turned back to the kitchen, and decided to make Lola the fish fingers she had found. She could give her them with chips, and red sauce, so it was only slightly different to what she had asked for.

But she still had a feeling it wouldn’t go down well.

Her original theory was proved right when she put the plate down on the table and finally got Lola to sit in front of it. The girl took one look before turning away.

“I don’t want it.”

“Well you’ll have to eat it.”

“No.”

“Lola” she warned, gradually losing patience with her attitude, but feeling as though she didn’t really have any right to shout at her, seeing as she wasn’t her own daughter.

“NO!”

Her phone beeping from the hallway felt like a reprieve from the situation, and she left Lola scowling at her dinner to go and read the message, turning the television off en-route.  Her instant relief at seeing Phil’s name pop up was replaced with slight despair when she read his text.

_**Text from Phil [17:31]**  Hey, I’m so sorry Mel, we’re stuck in traffic just out of state. Might be another few hours. Are you both okay? xxx_

She sighed, hearing the crash of plastic that could only be Lola’s plate hitting the floor.

_**Text from Melinda [17:32]**  Don’t worry, not your fault, will see you later. xxx_

She wondered if Phil would notice she had avoided answering the last part of his message.

“Was that Daddy?”

Melinda turned to find her standing in the doorway, sucking her thumb, her eyes pink from tiredness. Melinda sighed, knowing this was going to send her over the edge.

“Yes. He’s going to be late.”

“Why!?”

“Their bus is stuck in traffic, so it’s going to take them longer.”

Lola opened her mouth, and screamed, and Melinda had to take a step back from the child to work out how to deal with her now. This wasn’t just her being snarky, this was turning into a full blown tantrum, and Melinda had no experience whatsoever in dealing with one of them.

She could feel her blood pressure rising by the second, and had to take a deep breath to stop herself shouting back at her.

“Lola, you’re really tired,” she said with a forced smile, taking a step towards her. “If you won’t eat your dinner, you should put your pyjamas on, and go to bed.”

“No.”

“You need to go to bed.”

“No!”

“Please?” she begged, a slight hint of desperation in her voice. “Your dad said you would be good for me tonight, do you want me to tell him you were naughty?”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you aren’t my mommy.”

Melinda swallowed. That was exactly the reason she felt like she had no right whatsoever to discipline the girl.

“I know that, I just -”

Lola stormed past her however and marched up the stairs, and Melinda felt a slight realisation she might have been getting through to her. Clearly it was thought too soon however, because as soon as she reached the landing, having gone up the stairs to ensure she actually did get ready for bed, Lola started again.

“Daddy said we’re going to see mommy soon.”

After a moment of panic at the way she had worded it, Melinda put the pieces together and realised she must have meant the graveyard, back in Portland, where Audrey and her parents were buried. Of course, it was almost the five year anniversary of their deaths, so it was understandable they would be going down there next month.

It was a bit strange that Phil hadn’t mentioned it to her though, but then again, it was their life, not hers, and she was sure he would say something closer to the time.

“I know you are” she said instead, eager to just get Lola to go to sleep, and deciding if she agreed with her she might stop arguing.

“You’re not coming” Lola said determinedly, not moving from her spot and stomping her foot, glaring at Melinda.

“No, I’m not.”

“Good.” she snarled, tears beginning to leak from the corners of her eyes. “We don’t want you to come anyway.”

With that Lola turned around and stormed back towards her bed, before realising Melinda was still stood there.

“Get out!” she shouted, pushing her out of the room. As soon as Melinda stepped over the threshold and onto the landing, Lola slammed the door behind her.

She took several deep breaths to try and calm herself down.

How could a child annoy her so much?

* * *

 

The sound of the front door opening around two hours later signalled Phil’s return, and the sense of relief that washed over Melinda was almost ridiculous.

“Hey,” he said quietly, opening the door to the living room and coming in to find Melinda staring through the tv, ignoring whatever was actually playing. “Miss me?”

He’d meant it as a jokey comment, but one look at both her expression and body language - she was sitting stiffly on the couch and didn’t look at all relaxed - told him she was extremely thankful he was back.

“Yes.”

“Hey, what happened?” Phil asked softly, bending down in front of her and tucking her hair behind her ears.

“Nothing. It’s fine. How was your trip?” she asked him instead, forcing a smile to her face and trying to avoid the conversation he was prying for. She was shattered, and honestly wanted nothing more than to go to bed.

“It was good. Are you okay? You seem… stressed.” He looked around the room, noticing the torn up drawings and broken crayons on the table, and frowning. “Was she good?”

“She…“

“Mel?”

“I can’t do it,” she murmured quietly, looking into her lap where he was now caressing her hands. “Phil, I can’t do it. I’m not her mother. I can’t discipline her. I can’t.”

“What happened?” he repeated, feeling slight alarm at how stressed out she appeared; he’d not seen her like this before, and wondered what had happened to get her to that state. “What did she do?”

“She locked me in my room.”

The small voice that came from the door signified Lola having clearly not gone to sleep - although Melinda had expected as much - and getting back out of bed and coming downstairs to play victim as soon as she heard her dad’s voice.

“No, I asked you to go to bed,” Melinda clarified evenly, “and you refused.”

“Is that true?” Phil asked Lola, as she stood in the doorway to the living room in her pyjamas, looking at him guiltily.

“Only because she was mean to me” Lola pouted at Phil, her pink eyes filling with tears; she was clearly extremely overtired, and Phil could sense there was going to be chaos very soon if she didn’t get some sleep.

“No I wasn’t,” Melinda replied, trying to keep her voice even as she spoke, but feeling her blood pressure begin to rise once more. “I asked you to go to bed, you refused, yelled at me, and pushed me out of your room.”

“Lola!” Phil scolded her with wide eyes; in his daughter’s whole life he could count the number of tantrums she’d had on only two hands. “Is this true?”

She nodded as the tears began to fall, dripping onto the floor around her barefeet, and soaking into the carpet.

“Why?” he asked her, shaking his head in disappointment. “I asked Mel to look after you tonight because I thought you would have fun and behave for her.”

“She’s always here!” Lola screamed suddenly, tears running down her cheeks properly as they bloomed red from anger. “I don’t want you here!” she turned to Melinda. “Go away!”

Phil stared at his daughter in shock.

Melinda knew she had to walk out before she said something to a child she would regret, so she threw her hands up in the air with a sad little laugh, shaking her head at the same time.

“Fine.”

She grabbed her jacket off the chair as she passed, and walked out of the room towards the hallway, leaving Phil and Lola both in the living room in silence.

It seemed to both surprise and shut Lola up, because she watched her walk out without another word, a big contrast to how she had been only moments before.

“Lola, apologise” Phil growled, his voice travelling through to the hall where Melinda was lacing up her boots.  

“No.”

“Right then, go to bed!”

Lola stormed past her and up the stairs, and Melinda felt a sense of failure that after everything that had happened that night, one sentence from Phil and she had gone straight to bed.

“Melinda!” Phil chased her out into the hall, reaching out and spinning her round to face him. “Don’t leave, she didn’t mean it,” he begged her quietly. “She’s tired, and stressed, and -”

“So am I, Phil!” she exclaimed exhaustedly. “And I have class all day tomorrow. I just… I need to go.”

“Mel -”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She opened the front door, and he let her leave without further argument. 

“Get home safe” he whispered, as he watched her walk up the road and disappear around the corner at the end.

* * *

 

“What are you doing here?” Natasha asked in surprise, walking out from her bedroom as Melinda closed the front door behind her and kicked off her shoes. “Weren’t you meant to be staying out tonight?”

“It was come back or kill a five year old.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows, before gesturing to the glass of wine in her hand. “Drink?”

“Hell yes.”

Natasha walked through to the kitchen in nothing but a baggy tee and underwear, before opening the fridge, Melinda following behind her in defeat.

“Wine?”

“Anything stronger?” she asked, dropping her head into her hands as she leaned on the worktop.

“Oh God,” Natasha muttered, as she pulled a half-empty vodka bottle from the fridge and proceeded to pour some into a glass. “What happened?”

“Remember how I said she was practically a perfect child? No tantrums or bad behaviour?”

“Mmmm.”

“I think she was saving it all up for me.”

Natasha handed her the glass, and Melinda swirled the contents around before downing it in one, shot style.

“She’s just a kid Mel,” Natasha said, glancing back towards the doorway as though checking to see if someone were listening.

“She said I’m always there, and she doesn’t want me in the house anymore.”

“Oh Mel,” Nat returned her focus to her friend, and looked at her sympathetically. “She was probably just tired.”

“What if it’s true though?” Melinda asked, grabbing the bottle and pouring herself a second. “Phil thought she was fine with it but…”

“Look. He knows his daughter best. So if he thinks she’s okay with you two being together, then I guess -”

The sound of somebody sneezing in the next room stopped her mid track, and Melinda looked up at her friend in confusion, before the guilty expression on Natasha’s face told her everything she needed to know. Through the haze of stress, sleep deprivation, and vodka, it dawned on her that if Nat had thought Melinda would be out all night, that she might not have been alone.

“Are you -”

“Shit, sorry Mel, I didn’t know you’d be back and I -”

“Is it…?” she asked with raised eyebrows, suddenly feeling slightly less stressed and more intrigued.

Natasha had the grace to look slightly awkward, and nodded. “Clint.”

Melinda widened her eyes before kicking herself internally. She’d just spent ten minutes ranting and complaining, and Barton would probably go to work the next day and tell Phil everything he had overheard.

Not that she wasn’t happy for Nat, but maybe setting the two up wasn’t the smartest plan ever - and they clearly were getting along very well indeed.

Very well.

“In that case,” Melinda announced, putting the vodka back into the fridge and her glass in the sink. “I’m going to stop ranting, go to bed, and put earplugs in.”

“Love you Mel!” Natasha grinned, before practically skipping from the room. She turned back at the last moment however, and poked her head back around the doorframe. “It’ll be fine though, you and Phil? I know it will.”

Melinda smiled despite her mood. “Thanks Nat.”

* * *

 

Melinda checked her phone before she went to sleep, and found several missed calls and multiple text messages. She sighed before going through them all; maybe she shouldn’t have walked out like she did, after all, Phil had only just returned, and Lola was only five, but she had been so stressed…

**_Missed Call [21:38]_ **

**_Missed Call [21:47]_ **

_**Text from Phil [21:53]**  Melinda, please talk to me about tonight. She’s asleep finally, but you know she didn’t mean anything xxx_

_**Text from Phil [21:58]**  Mel? Please xxx_

**_Missed Call [22:05]_ **

_**Text from Phil [22:08]**  Are you okay? You walked home and I just want to be sure you’re alright? xxx_

_**Text from Melinda [22:20]** I’m okay Phil, just exhausted. I’ll text you tomorrow.x_

_**Text from Phil [22:21]**  Thank god. Okay, promise? xxx_

_**Text from Melinda [22:24]**  Of course. xx_

_**Text from Phil [22:27]** Okay. I’m so sorry. Goodnight Melinda… sleep well xxx_

_**Text from Melinda [22:30]**  Goodnight xxx_

* * *

“Look Phil,” Anne said quietly, putting her coffee mug down onto the table and wiping her lipstick smudge off the rim. “I know you’ve always tried to put Lola first for everything, and that is brilliant, it really is. But maybe…” she smiled slightly. “Maybe it’s time you put yourself first instead.”

Anne was sat in his kitchen, having just dropped Lola back at theirs after taking her to Aqua Class. She’d known immediately something wasn’t right with Lola, who had been quiet and detached all day, and when they had walked into the centre, and Melinda had been behind the reception desk, Lola had actually started crying.

Melinda had brushed it off, telling her it was fine, and Lola had kept whispering she was sorry, but Anne could still sense a tension around them both.

Phil looked down at his own cup. “What do you mean?” he asked, although he already knew exactly what his mother was referring to.

“You love Melinda, and I know she loves you… you shouldn’t be kept apart because a five year old doesn’t like change.”

She was right. Of course she was right.

Mothers really do know best.

* * *

“Where’s Maria?”

“She said she wasn’t in the mood,” Melinda replied with a shrug, browsing down the menu to see if there was anything that caught her eye.

It was Friday night, and her, Natasha and Bobbi had decided that as they were all free, they would go out for a catch-up meal. Maria however had declined their invitation, stating she wasn’t really feeling like it, and she had things to prepare for the wedding anyway.

“Since when is she not in the mood to socialise?”

“Since she’s about to become a married woman, apparently.”

“I hope she doesn’t change when she gets another ring on her finger.”

“You’ll have to kick her ass Mel, if she tries to go all housewife on us and stops coming out.”

“Hey I could kick her ass too!” Natasha chipped in, determined to not let them forget who had been the first of them all to be martial arts trained. 

“In fairness,” Melinda replied, nodding at Bobbi too - being a cop meant she had her own skill set. “I think we all could.”

“When you think about it, all four of us are pretty awesome.”

“Girl power!” Natasha grinned, raising her glass up in a mock toast to them both.

“Never say that again.”

When the waiter came over to ask if they were ready to order, all three of them literally chose random dishes from the menu that sounded appealing, having not really read it at all through their chatter. He noted their choices down with a nod, before removing their menus, and strolling back towards the kitchen.

“So,” Natasha said, turning to Melinda. “I haven’t really seen you since Wednesday… have you and Phil sorted things out now?”

“Kind of…”

“What happened with Phil?” Bobbi asked, concern etched upon her face as she listened to their conversation.

“His kid told Mel that she hated her being there,” Natasha said quietly, looking at Melinda to ensure she was right. “And that she didn’t want her in the house anymore.”

Bobbi winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” 

“She apologised yesterday” Melinda added, having watched slightly bemusedly as the other two proceeded to discuss her life whilst she just sat there.

“Really?”

Melinda nodded. “Her grandmother brought her into the centre for her weekly Aqua Class, and she just hid behind her legs and cried when I walked into reception.”

“I told you she had just been tired.”

“Yeah, we both were.”

“I guess it still hurt though,” Bobbi said with a sympathetic frown.

Melinda nodded.

“Did you not see Phil last night?”

“No. He had to stay late at school, and Lola was with Anne.”

“Isn’t Friday like your date night?” Natasha asked her suddenly, realising Melinda hadn’t been free on Friday evenings for months now.

“Usually.”

“But you’re here with us instead.”

“He’s coming round later… are you in tonight?” she asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow to go with her statement.

Natasha shook her head, and grinned.

“Nope. Going to see Clint straight after this, so you’ve got the flat to yourself.”

“Is this the guy you set her up with?”

Melinda nodded again.

“I want details of that later,” Bobbi said with a  _look_ , before turning back to Melinda. “Every relationship goes through it’s rough patches,” she told her supportively. “Believe me, I should know.”

“Oh I think we all know about the two of you,” Natasha muttered, and Bobbi threw a grin her way.

“All I’m saying,” she continued, as the waiter wandered back to their table, balancing their meals in one hand, “is that if this is the first time you have fallen out in what? Almost six months?”

She nodded again, despite knowing they hadn’t really fallen out as such, but also realising Bobbi was right when she had said they had been together almost six months - the time had flown.

“Then I reckon you’ve got a pretty amazing thing going there.”

* * *

When Melinda got back to the flat that evening, she had around ten minutes before Phil arrived. She found herself - ridiculously - counting down until he arrived, realising that despite it having only been a few days, she had actually missed him. But then in fairness, it had been almost a week, because he’d left on the Monday and she had seen him for less than ten minutes of the Wednesday.

When he knocked on her front door, she opened it to him with a small smile, and when he presented her with a bunch of tulips as an apology she pulled him into the flat by his free hand, and enveloped him in a gentle hug.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, resting her forehead against his chest, as he carefully wrapped his arms around her, avoiding crushing the flowers against her.

“For what?” he asked, surprised; he had come to apologise to her for what Lola said, not the other way around.

“For walking out. For letting her get to me… I can’t believe I let her get to me; she’s just a kid.”

“Shhhh, Mel, I’m sorry for letting you leave… and she is sorry too, she didn’t mean it, you know that right? She was just exhausted and -”

“- And she wanted her dad.”

“Yeah. And that…. you know she cried yesterday morning?”

“Why?” she asked, pulling back slightly to look at him, and reaching around to push the front door closed.

“She came into my room when she woke up, and asked if you had come back after she shouted, and when I said no, she cried,” he smiled weakly. “She said she was mean to you and made you sad.”

“Phil,” she shook her head. “I was just exhausted. I let a five year old get to me.”

“She knows which buttons to press though…” he muttered, placing the flowers on the table next to them, and brushing hair from her face. “She gets that from Maria.”

“Like aunt like niece?”

“Something like that.”

He pulled her into an even closer hug, burying his face into her hair and stroking down her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “I love you so much Mel” he murmured, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.”

She stood up onto her tiptoes, and buried her own face into the crook of his neck; they stood in the living room just holding one another, as the sound of late spring rain outside played a melody against the windows.

“Do you want me to back go home tonight?” he asked her quietly, not sure whether she would want to just jump straight back into how things were, prior to her walking out.

She shook her head against him. “No,” she murmured, looking up to see him watching her questioningly. “Stay.”

He smiled softly, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

When she fell asleep curled up against him on the sofa, about an hour later, Phil simply grabbed the throw from the other couch, and pulled it over them both, resting his head on the cushions behind him as he let himself drift off with her.

He should have known things were going too well with them both, but now he’d thought he had lost her, he knew even more, he never wanted to let her go.

* * *

The day of Maria and Steve’s wedding arrived, accompanied by clear skies and the glorious sight of the sun.

The gentle melody of the re-worked wedding march began to float out into the corridor outside, and Melinda’s stomach flipped over knowing it was about to begin – she could only imagine how nervous Maria would be feeling. But her friend showed no sign of anxiety as she walked into the church with a smile on her face.

Lola entered first, as flower girl for the ceremony, and sprinkled petals along the aisle as people cooed and smiled at how adorable she looked. Phil walked his sister down after her, seeing as their father was no longer around, and the two of them were followed first by maid of honour Pepper, and then by Melinda and Izzy. When she reached the altar, Maria kissed Phil on the cheek – a rare gesture between the two siblings but one which really portrayed her gratitude towards him – and stood next to Steve, who was looking at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the entire world.

Melinda smiled as she passed them both, and lined up with the other bridesmaids, taking hold of Lola’s hand where she stood next to her. Maria really did look gorgeous, and as Pepper took the bridal bouquet from her to allow the ceremony to begin, she was one-hundred percent certain the two were perfectly matched in every way.

The vicar spoke to the congregation for a while, and then all guests sang the hymns Steve and Maria had picked out, before being seated once more. Lola wriggled on her chair and fussed slightly, so Melinda pulled her onto her knee, and whispered to her that she had to be quiet just for a little while longer. She promised her she’d get her cake if she could stay silent, and Lola pretended to zip her mouth closed in agreement.

It was bribery, but it worked.

She was getting there with her.

Steve’s best man, Bucky, as he was known to friends, handed him the rings, and he and Maria  exchanged vows and promises alongside slivers of gold, and Melinda watched Anne dab tears from her eyes as her only daughter committed herself to Steve for life.

When it was announced that the marriage was valid, officiated, and complete, Steve was asked to kiss the bride, and he did so to cheers and clapping from the congregation around them. They each signed the register – Maria now being known as Maria Rogers – and posed for photographs with the bridesmaids and groomsmen inside the church. Maria pulled Anne over to join them, and had a mother-daughter photograph with just the two of them to add to the collection.

They exited the church to fountains of confetti being thrown upon them both, and Phil watched with a smile as Melinda picked Lola up even higher to pour the petals onto Maria, who swatted at them playfully before kissing her niece on the cheek.

Professional photographs were planned to be taken in the gardens next-door, so the party walked around.

First there was an entire congregation shot, followed by one for each family. Maria’s family and friends went first, and then Steve’s followed, some people being dragged into both pictures because they couldn’t really decide who they were friends with the most. Then there were shots of the bride and groom, surrounded by the bridesmaids and groomsmen, the groom and groomsmen, and then just the bride and bridesmaids – and flower girl, of course. Maria requested extra shots of various groups including one of Phil and Melinda together, and one of them with Lola, plus pictures of Phil and Anne with Lola.

When they finally got inside, the room was split into various tables, with the wedding party along one large table, and the rest of the guests spread out across other smaller ones.  Pepper had organised the tables so that people could sit with someone they knew, and others they didn’t, in an aim to integrate the two sides of the family together as much as possible; it was apparently something that had been done at her own wedding, and she really thought it worked well.

Afterwards there were speeches, laughter and tears, before everybody congratulating the married couple one more time.

They all sipped champagne, but Melinda could have sworn that Maria wasn’t drinking hers. Maybe it was just the nerves…

The after-party began an hour later, and there was an entire white gazebo erected outside, filled with fairy lights, a bar, dance floor, and tables for everyone. The rest of the guests entered first, and Melinda and the other bridesmaids stayed back when Maria wanted one last picture of them all surrounding the cake.

Phil took Melinda’s hand when she finally entered, and led her to a table where he was sat, amongst others, with his mother and Lola. Anne greeted her with a warm hug, and Lola ran around her in circles, clearly having eaten too much cake, the sugar sending her a little hyperactive.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked her, resting a hand on her lower back as Anne told Lola to calm down.

“White wine, please.”

He nodded before heading off to the bar, leaving her at the table with his mother, who smiled up at her from the seat she was now sat in.

“You look beautiful Melinda,” she said happily. “The pink is lovely on you.”

“Thanks,” she replied, taking a seat next to her and putting her clutch bag onto the table. “I wasn’t sure about it at first, but with the hair wavy, and the matching flowers and shoes –“ she indicated to the heels she had on her feet, “- it all works pretty well together.”

“And Phil looks handsome as ever,” Anne added, as though probing her for a response.

“He does.”

“He really loves you Melinda,” Anne said quietly, watching her son with a small smile as he ordered their round of drinks at the bar. “I’ve not seen him this happy in years.”

Melinda wasn’t too sure how to reply, what with words not being her strong point, so she said the only thing she knew was right: “I love him too.”

Anne reached out then, and took Melinda’s left hand in both of her own with a gentle squeeze, before glancing over at the bundle of energy now trying to get Maria to dance with her. “She loves you as well, you know?”

“Lola?”

“Yes. I think she’s really taken a shine to you; she never stops talking about you.”

“She’s a great kid.”

“That she is” Anne replied fondly, clearly adoring of her granddaughter; Melinda couldn’t blame her for that, Lola really was lovely.

Across the room, Melinda heard the all familiar laugh of Natasha, and she threw her gaze over to find her stood talking to Maria, one hand held tightly in Clint’s. Somehow, and Melinda wasn’t sure how she had done it, but Nat had managed to convince Maria to let her invite a plus one at the last minute - Melinda wouldn’t have dared try and change her already perfected plans, but it appeared she had gotten away with it.

She glanced over to see who else was on their table with them, and, after averting her eyes from Bobbi and Lance’s little PDA, she found Pepper, sat talking animatedly to a toddler on her knee. The kid had a mop of curly light-brown hair, and he was clutching a large toy monkey in his pudgy hands. The man next to Pepper, who Melinda could only assume was her husband, Tony, was playing with the child, trying to pull the toy away from him by it’s tail with a grin.

Pepper saw her watching them, and smiled.

“This is Tony,” she said, nodding towards her husband and confirming Melinda’s original thoughts. Tony waved in her direction. “And this is Leo” she added, bouncing the child on her knee with a proud smile. He could only have been around one year old, if that, and he was dressed in a tiny checked button up shirt and tie.

She hadn’t known they had a son.

“Melinda, right?” Tony asked, finally stopping teasing his son and letting him keep the toy.

“Yeah.”

“Tony. Stark.” He held his hand out across the table to her. “Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.”

Melinda laughed and shook his hand, as Pepper shot her husband a look. He held his hands up in surrender.

“Just saying.”

“The playboy part was renounced the day you married me,” she told him, bending to pick the monkey off the floor as Leo decided to throw it down. “But then rest is true,” she added, looking back at Melinda.

“Here we go,” Phil announced, as he arrived back at their table with a tray of drinks, and her attention was drawn back away from the little family opposite her.

“Don’t spill them on me,” Melinda retorted, watching as he scanned the table for whose drink went where.

“I’ll try my best” he shot back immediately, before adding with a smirk: “Cat-woman.”

Anne looked at them both strangely, but they both knew exactly what the other was talking about.

An hour later, and the original excitement over there being a dance-floor had died down, leaving it occupied by fewer people going crazy. As the song switched over to something a lot slower, they all realised it was time for the first dance, and gathered around to watch Steve and Maria come together in the middle of the dance-floor. They swayed in time to the music, and neither could stop smiling, each with eyes solely for the person opposite them.

After around a minute of them dancing alone, Pepper and Tony joined them on the floor, followed soon after by Izzy and Victoria. Phil held a hand out to Melinda, who eyed it with a wary smile, before accepting his offer, and the two headed out to join the rest of the couples moving slowly around in time to the music. He placed his right hand on her waist, and his left held her hand, and Melinda rested her head against his shoulder as they began to sway to their own melody.

“We’ve never danced before,” he murmured quietly, so only she could hear.

“We danced in your kitchen that time” she pointed out, and he remembered one evening last month when Lola had been asleep, and they had eaten dinner whilst the radio was on. Once they’d finished, the music had changed to a slower more romantic song, and they’d found themselves holding on to one another, circling the room in time to the music with contented smiles.

“True, but not properly.”

“I like dancing with you” she admitted, feeling the warmth of his body radiating through his dress shirt. She snuggled her head closer into his shoulder, and he gave up on proper dancing moves, wrapping both arms around her and holding her close.

“I like dancing with you, too.”

They swayed for the remainder of the song, and all the way through the next too, lost in their own little world as guests around the joined the floor and exited again.

They only left once the music returned to disco-style songs, and as they returned to their table, Anne was smiling at them with a knowing look, Lola asleep on her lap having finally been tired out by the whole evening.

Phil picked his sleeping daughter up, letting her head lay on his shoulder, and turned to Melinda.

“Are you staying? Because I need to take her home, but if you want to stay….”

“It’s fine,” Melinda replied, picking up her clutch bag from the table. “I’ve been in these shoes for twelve hours. I would honestly pay you $500 for a pair of flats right now, so I’m happy to go.”

They left after saying goodbyes to everyone, especially Maria and Steve, although they both seemed to be in a haze of happiness and simply grinned at them both as they spoke.

Phil carried Lola in his arms, and Melinda walked by his side, and they all returned to his house together, like a little family.

It was the first time Melinda had stayed over at theirs since the “incident”, but the next morning, Lola was more than happy to see her there once more.


	10. June

**June**

Melinda peeled her eyes open, and let herself gradually adjust to the fact she was now conscious. Without moving, she could feel Phil wrapped around her back, his knees behind her own and his chest leaning against her back, arms round her waist.

When she’d first met him, she wouldn’t have pegged him as a guy who liked to cuddle in his sleep, but she had definitely been proven wrong on that count.

She simply lay in the peace of the room, feeling his breath against her neck and the strange comfort that brought her each morning.

Just over six months ago, she’d been sleeping alone, awakening to do tai-chi before leaving hurriedly, working all day and returning to the flat on her own, only to repeat her routine the next. She’d never imagined her life could have changed so much, in such a short space of time.

And she’d never been so grateful.

Rolling over as carefully as she could, she found herself face to face with Phil. His eyes were closed, and the rhythm of his breathing told her he was definitely still sleeping. She smiled, lightly tracing his jawline with her fingertips, before whispering her new favourite phrase to him.

“I love you, Phil,” she smiled, before pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, and proceeding to set about getting up.

She had work in a few hours time; right now, there was no rush to do anything, but she was awake and soon Lola would be up, and in the peace of the house, tai-chi was calling to her.

Melinda rose from the bed slowly, careful not to disturb Phil; she wriggled out from where his arms were wrapped around her, and could have sworn he pouted slightly when she climbed from the bed. But he was still asleep - or very good at pretending to be - so she carried on regardless.

Wandering to the middle of the room, she stood facing the window, watching as the morning light streamed through a gap in the curtains, illuminating the space of carpet she was standing upon with a gentle glow.

Melinda breathed in deeply, before exhaling slowly and carefully, measuring her timings and holding her breath for a few seconds before each set was complete.

It was a routine she knew like clockwork, automatically running through the motions with grace each day, without even consciously thinking about what came next or how to do something differently. It was part of her life, and something she couldn’t imagine not doing.

After just over ten minutes, she felt the sensation of being watched, and glancing over to the bed, her suspicions were confirmed when she found herself under the sleepy gaze of Phil’s blue eyes.

“Hey,” she murmured softly, not breaking posture and continuing to stretch her arms around her back. “How long have you been awake?”

“Not long.”

Phil yawned, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, before brushing it back through his hair and smiling gently at her.

“You look so graceful when you do this, you know?”

It had quickly become apparent early on in their relationship, that Phil liked watching her practice each morning. He claimed it relaxed him, seeing her so calm, but she had a sneaking feeling it was more to do with the way she would often bend over…

“I keep saying you should try it,” she replied instead, coming out of one move, and turning to face him properly. “It’ll do you good too,” she teased, holding a hand out to convince him to join her, “you need the exercise.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and gave a slight smirk. “I think we get enough exercise, don’t you?”

The corners of her lips rose upwards as she processed her words, before dropping her hand back down and continuing her routine like there had been no interruption.

“Fine, stay pudgy.”

It only took a few seconds more, just like she thought, before she heard the mattress creaking as he climbed out of bed to join her, his bare feet padding across the carpet until he was right behind her.

She hid her smile well.

“Go on,” he said resignedly, taking a deep breath and stretching his arms upwards. “What’s step one?”

“Breathing. In and out,” she informed him, brushing her arms across her body in one fluid motion, and sweeping them back out in front of her. She could hear him trying, to his credit, and wondered if one day he would actually be able to stay focused for more than five minutes; that had been his record.

Her thoughts about his lack of concentration were confirmed, when she felt his arms wrap around her waist from behind, and he began placing soft kisses down the exposed skin of her neck.

“Phil,” she murmured, dropping her form and sighing contentedly.

He mumbled something incoherent against her neck, letting his fingers brush against her hips, and Melinda decided that maybe she’d done enough tai-chi for one day.

After all, he was very distracting.

* * *

Following the incident the previous month, Phil was determined to ensure Lola and Melinda were happy being with each other, despite how they both kept telling him things were fine.

As Lola had had so much fun with both he and Melinda on the day to the science museum they went on, back in February, Phil decided another trip out was in order.

The settled eventually on plans to take her to an aquarium, several miles out of town, and Lola spent the entire week before their visit talking about nothing other than what she hoped they would see at the centre, her theories ranging from the more likely ones of jellyfish and crabs, right down to the most absurd, which resulted in Phil having to gently explain that mermaids weren’t real.

When Lola had spent the afternoon upset, Melinda asked why, and ended up telling her that actually, there was a lot of the sea that had never been searched, so mermaids might exist, they just hadn’t been found before. She wasn’t sure what Phil would make of her slightly contradictory information, but it seemed to make Lola smile again, so all was good.

On the day they went, she spent the journey there talking about all the different sea creatures she had learned about on a tv show her Grandma Anne had shown her, and Phil and Melinda sat in the front, listening to her getting more and more excited the closer they got.

Lola was practically climbing out of her booster-seat by the time Phil pulled into the car park, and no sooner had Melinda opened the rear car-door had Lola unclipped her belt and bounced out, grinning wildly as she watched Melinda desperately trying to open an umbrella to stop them both getting wet.

The rain didn’t seem to faze her one bit.

Phil took Lola’s hand as they queued to pay their entrance fee, and she continuously looked around at the welcome hall, the walls painted ocean blue and covered in images of sharks, seahorses and turtles.

There was a sound effect of waves crashing against the shore being played through hidden speakers all around them, and as Phil handed over the money to buy their tickets, Lola whispered to Melinda that she wondered if they would see mermaids anyway, despite what her dad had told her.  

They wandered slowly through each section of the centre, stopping at the show-and-tell discussion as a team member demonstrated the differences between different types of starfish. Some were large, yellow with what looked like spikes upon their backs, whilst others were bright blue, with long, flexible legs that clambered over rocks and swept away sand in their path.

The assistant asked for volunteers, to see if any of the children would like to hold one of the starfish, but Lola shied away, hiding behind Phil’s legs and preferring to watch another child helping out.

As they headed to the tropical zone, Lola pressed her nose up against the glass of a marine tank filled with clownfish, exclaiming excitedly “There’s Nemo!” at each individual fish in the tank, as they hid from sight in anemones, and chased circles around the rocks that made up their home.

The coral that made up the reef was incredible, a rainbow of colour through the water, and Melinda appreciated how relaxing it was, watching fish travel slowly around their habitat.

She wondered about maybe looking into getting a tank for herself; watching fish whilst practising tai-chi could be the most relaxing experience ever.

All three of them gasped as they entered a darkened room, and found that one wall consisted solely of glass, reaching over five metres in height, and through it was an enormous enclosure, where they could watch sharks swim by slowly, perusing their environment.

At feeding time, a scuba diver entered the tank, and proceeded to empty a bucket of raw fish into the water, and all the guests stood in awe as the sharks circled their meal, before consuming it faster than imagined. Phil was slightly worried it would freak Lola out, but one look at her face told him otherwise – she was awestruck, mesmerised by the giant creatures with rows of teeth and spiked fins.

There was an automatic walkway, that allowed guests to travel through the middle of the tank, and all manner of creatures swam past the glass as they moved. Manta-rays rested on the glass above their heads, their gills and faces visible to all who passed below. They almost looked like they were smiling, and as one swam away, the edges of its fins flapping, Lola insisted it had waved to them.

Crabs scuttled across the tank bed, their maroon coloured claws snapping at one another, and stealing leftover chunks of fish from one-another when the sharks circling above had decided they were full.

Phil and Melinda followed Lola around slowly, giving her the complete freedom she wanted and needed to explore the centre.

They found themselves back in the “shark room” – as she so dubbed it – three times, and Lola was disappointed when she realised they wouldn’t be getting fed again for another day. Her disappointment didn’t last long however, as on their third trip into the moving tunnel, two sharks swam right overhead, close enough that she could see the black of their eyes, and she ran along the travelator, following their every move.

Phil ensured they visited every room at least twice, determined that she hadn’t missed anything that he would later regret not showing her, but once he was certain they were done, they left.

She fell asleep in the back of the car, clutching tightly onto the stuffed toy shark that Melinda had bought for her in the gift-shop – they must have spent almost an hour in there alone, debating between the shark and a model of a crab, holding gold coins in its claws – before Phil pointed out the crab was more of an ornament than a toy.

Melinda watched Lola in the rear-view mirror as they drove, wondering at how peaceful she could sleep despite the fact they were speeding down the road; the shark’s teeth were made of an iridescent fabric that glittered under the streetlights as they passed by.

* * *

Halfway through June, Phil and Melinda had the conversation she knew had been coming for some time. In fairness, she had known since they had first got together, but recently it had been looming, and she hadn’t wanted to be the one who brought it up.

It was a Tuesday evening, and they were in his kitchen; Phil had put Lola to bed an hour before, and the he and Melinda had just finished their dinner.

Spaghetti bolognaise, with homemade red-wine sauce. Phil really was a great cook.

She had known something was coming all evening, because he’d been quieter than usual, and whilst they had been eating, Melinda had watched him twirling pasta around on his fork, staring at the strands as though they were the most interesting thing in the room.

When they’d cleared the pots, he had turned to face her, leaning against the worksurface, and sighing, meeting her gaze with silent pleadings to understand.

“In two weeks,” Phil began, not knowing how Melinda would react to what he was saying. “It’ll be five years since Audrey and her parent were killed.”

She swallowed, her thoughts about what he wanted to say confirmed with only a few simple words.

“Each year I take Lola down to Portland to visit the grave.” He ran his hand through his hand, and sighed, becoming lost in memories Melinda could only imagine. “I let her lay flowers, and we’ll talk to the headstone, you know?”

He glanced up, and Melinda nodded gently in encouragement for him to continue.

“She knows that’s where her mother is.”

“I know,” Melinda replied quietly, watching him from where she was perched on the side of the table. “Lola told me.”

Phil frowned at her words. “When?”

“A few weeks back.”

She didn’t add any more; Melinda wasn’t going to tell him that Lola had specifically said - no, screamed - that she wasn’t invited; it was in the past, and they were over it.

“Oh.” He seemed to realise when the conversation must have taken place however, and he fixed her with a sad stare, before continuing. “Would you find it weird if I still took her?”

She honestly didn’t know. Would going to see his dead wife’s grave be something she found strange? Melinda wasn’t sure.

Phil seemed to be reading her mind however.

“You… if you wanted, you could come with us, but -”

“Phil, its okay.” Melinda smiled softly, stopping him halfway through his sentence. “Go with her. Just the two of you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

She wouldn’t go with them, even though he asked; it was their past, and technically nothing to do with her. Lola deserved to know about her family, and she would not get in the way of that happening. But there was still that tiny part of her - and she hated herself for it - that felt weird about him technically visiting his ex-wife.

* * *

Melinda had only been to Bobbi’s place once, and that had been when she and Lance had split up for the third time and she insisted the girls come round to spend the night getting drunk and making sure she didn’t call him by mistake.

But now she was sat in her friends living room, absently stroking the scruffy tabby cat that had clambered up onto the sofa next to her, and proceeded to sit half in her lap, and she wondered why on earth they didn’t chill here more often.

It was so much more spacious that her and Natasha’s flat, and Maria and Steve lived together permanently, so going round there often felt like intruding. But Bobbi’s place was… lovely. Working as a cop meant she wasn’t home much, and when she was, Lance was often round as well, but even so, it was still tidy and homely and inviting.

“So, the new Mrs. Rogers is currently sunning herself on a beach in the Bahamas?” Lance asked, walking into the room and throwing himself down on the sofa next to Bobbi. She simply rolled her eyes and turned to look at him.

“Somebody sounds jealous.”

“Not at all sweetheart.”

“Bullshit” Bobbi and Natasha chimed simultaneously, turning to grin at each other as they did so.

Lance pouted, before looking at Melinda for support.

“You know I don’t like you, right?” she interrupted, before he even had the chance to ask her to back him up. She was trying hard to keep a serious face whilst they teased him, and the puppy-dog eyes he was now proceeding to give her were not helping. In fairness, she had nothing against him other than the fact he caused her friend so much heartbreak over the years; but then again, Bobbi was equally guilty in that area.

“Fine” he sighed, holding both hands up in surrender. “I’m jealous, but come on Bob, you know you wanna be there too!”

“On someone else’s honeymoon?” she raised an eyebrow before shaking her head. “No thanks.”

“I mean somewhere hot, and sunny, and -”

“Somewhere your pasty English skin can just burn to a crisp?” she asked, teasing again, and nudging his legs with her own.

“Exactly” he grinned, resting his hand against her knee. “See, I knew you’d see things my way.”

Melinda watched them interacting bemusedly. She still wasn’t sure how they could go from this, loving banter and teasing, to hating each other in just a matter of weeks, but the two had been repeating the same routine for years now.

It was always better when they were like this though. Everyone could see how right they were for one another despite their issues.

“Right,” Lance announced, checking his phone once more before climbing off the sofa, stretching and shrugging his jacket back on. “I’m going to watch the match, I’ll see you later, ‘kay?”

Bobbi smiled and nodded, before Lance leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss against her lips.

“Have fun ladies.”

He grinned at Melinda and Natasha, and left the room.

As soon as the front door closed behind him, Bobbi turned to the girls.

“Right, going back to Maria…” Bobbi took a sip of her drink, before placing the glass onto the coffee table in front of her. “Has anybody else noticed she’s been acting a little weird lately?”

Melinda knew exactly what she meant; she had been watching Maria for a couple of weeks now, and she had an inkling about what was going on. But it wasn’t her news to share, so she simply nodded.

“Yeah,” Natasha said, glancing between the two of them to see if they were all on the same page. “She wasn’t drinking at her own wedding, not even champagne.”

“Anyone else thinking what I’m thinking?”

They all looked at each other, and grinned.

If they were right in their theories, then everything was definitely going to change…

Half an hour later, and they decided to move on from discussing Maria, Bobbi began relaying to Natasha and Melinda the events of night shift she’d been on the previous week.

“So we’re at the side of the road, watching this bar where there is usually trouble, and some guy comes up to the car, and starts going on about, and I quote, “Hail Hydra Bitches”, whatever the hell that means -”

“- It’s from a comic series” Melinda replied automatically, not really thinking about it until the words left her mouth. The other two looked at her curiously, and she glanced up to find both sets of eyes watching her expectantly.

“I didn’t know you read comics Mel?” Natasha asked, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“I don’t” she shrugged, the motion making the cat wake up and proceed to stretch out across her, scattering fur all over her leggings. “But Phil does, and he reads some to Lola, and…”

Bobbi was smiling, and Natasha was looking at her in a way that she knew something else was coming.

“What?” she asked cautiously, knowing that expression well.

“Do you read them together?”

“No -”

“How sweet is that?” Natasha interrupted, ignoring Melinda. “Reading comics together, you guys are too cute.”

Melinda glared, and Natasha laughed. “Okay, okay, but one more thing?”

She sighed, knowing what they were doing.

“What?”

“If you don’t read them with him, explain how you know who Hydra are.”

She and Bobbi were grinning at her, and Melinda knew full well they were just trying to make her feel awkward. She rolled her eyes at them, before looking focusedly at the cat.

“Because… okay I’ve read a few over his shoulder -”

Natasha squealed.

“And,” she continued, ignoring her this time, “it’s an organisation that fights against SHIELD, in the Avengers comic books….”

Maybe Phil was rubbing off on her more than she had realised…

* * *

It could have been any normal Sunday in June, in another life. But it wasn’t, and as the midday sun streamed through the car windscreen, and Phil pulled the block down to protect his eyes as he drove, he couldn’t help but think about the “what if’s?” of his life.

What if he’d never met Audrey?

What if she hadn’t gone to her parents house that fateful weekend?

What if Lola hadn’t survived the crash?

He shook his head particularly hard at that last thought, and looked up into his rearview mirror, catching sight of his daughter dozing in her seat in the back of the car. She was everything to him, and he couldn’t let himself dwell on the terrifying idea that he very nearly lost her too.

She snuffled slightly in her sleep, and he smiled despite himself. They’d been driving for several hours, and she was always exhausted by car journeys, so it was no surprise really, but in a way he wished she was awake to keep him company.

Especially today.

Driving back to Portland for the first time since the move, was slightly surreal. It had only been about ten months since he and Lola had packed up and climbed into the car, off to start new lives across the state. But as he drove back down the familiar roads he used to take each day to work, it felt like a lot longer.

He woke Lola gently when they arrived at the cemetery, and carried her from the car, pausing only to grab the flowers out of the boot that they had picked out together the afternoon before. He had to take a deep breath before they entered the rows of graves, preparing himself for what was always an emotional experience.

After they visited the plot where Audreys parents rested, they headed a few feet further, until they reached the white marble stone that marked the place where Audrey lay.

Lola placed the bunch of roses she had chosen down onto the grass in front of the headstone, and patted the white marble with her tiny hand.

“These are for you, Mommy, Daddy said you liked roses.” She bent closer, and Phil strained his ears to hear her next whispered words. “He said you liked music too, but I didn’t know how to bring that.”

She stood back up, and blew a kiss at the stone, before looking up at Phil, reaching out to hold his hand when she saw the tears in his eyes.

“You’re crying.”

“It’s okay honey” he replied quietly, smiling softly and squeezing her hand, before bending down to her height, and resting his free hand against the cool marble stone.

It was a strange feeling, but for the first time in five years, standing next to the grave in the early summer sunshine, Phil knew that yes, it would all be okay.

He hoped Audrey would be proud of how he’d raised Lola.

And he also hoped, in the strangest of ways, that she would be happy he was with Melinda now, someone who cared not only for himself, but also for their daughter.

* * *

“He went to visit her grave today.” Melinda placed her cup back onto the table, and avoided making eye contact with her mother.

She had decided on the impulsive trip to her house after talking to Bobbi and Natasha about Phil’s weekend plans. After all, sometimes, and even though she never really admitted it, everybody needed their mother.

Melinda sat at the dining table with Tian, and stared out of the window, watching the peach blossom drifting from the tree in the back garden. She had spent many a summer as a child sitting under that tree, reading, chatting with friends. She’d had her first kiss underneath it, and had broken up with the same boy three weeks later there. It represented the constant reminder, that whilst she had changed, some things were still familiar.

“With the girl?” Tian’s words brought her daughter back from her momentary lapse in concentration, and Melinda glanced back over to where her mother was sitting opposite her, frowning slightly.

“Yes. He wants Lola to know about her mother, and why she’s not here.”

Her mother nodded, once. “That is admirable.”

Tian watched her daughter struggling to express herself, and she frowned.

“And you are envious he still goes?”

Melinda looked at her with wide eyes, shaking her head vehemently as she picked her cup up again; it was a nervous habit, fiddling with things when she couldn’t decide what to say.

“No, Mama.”

“You fear he still loves her?”

“No. He said, I could go too, if I wanted.”

She shook her head again, only this time, it was with a little less enthusiasm than before.

Tian worked out Melinda’s feelings from the simple change in head shake.

“I see. You are here because you feel uncomfortable being with them today; like you are intruding in their lives.”

And once more, her mother had read her mind.

“They were a family,” she shrugged, remembering the distant look on Phil’s face when he had told her what they were doing at the weekend.

“And now you are a family” Tian said simply, her soft tones calming the conversation without physical attempt.

“But, Audrey,” Melinda replied, trying to formulate what she meant - she’d never been the best person with words. “She -”

“Qiao Lian,” Tian interrupted, silencing her with a raise of her hand. “Dead or alive, she is his daughter’s mother.”

“I know that, Mama.”

“Then no matter what, she will always be a part of Phillip’s life.”

Melinda looked up at her mother, to find her watching her carefully. But the exasperated expression she had expected to be on her face - which she had been the recipient of many times over her life - had actually been replaced by a softer, more kind one, and Tian hesitantly reached out to touch the top of her daughter’s hand.

“I know you like him a lot, Qiao Lian, I can tell.”

Melinda felt her cheeks blush slightly, but knew her mother needed the truth.

“I love him, Mama,” she murmured quietly, looking back down to the table with a soft sigh.

Tian listened to her daughter’s confession with a simple nod. “I am aware of that… as soon as I saw you with him in April, I knew.”

Melinda wondered briefly what the actual expression on her face had been that had showed her mother the honesty of her heart, but brushed the concern aside almost immediately.

”But,” her mother continued, the sound of the ticking clock in the hallway the only background to her words. “You must understand, no matter what he feels about you, and what the girl feels about you, this Audrey, will always be a part of their lives.”

She knew her mother was right. She always was.

“You won’t ever replace the girl’s mother,” Tian murmured quietly.

“I’m not trying to.” Melinda knew that much for sure. She wasn’t trying to be Lola’s mother; she wouldn’t have a clue where to begin anyway - the fall out a few weeks before had only proved that to herself.

“Good.” She nodded, pleased that her daughter did not have any wild ideas about the family she had found. “You can be something else to her though: a role model, supportive, even,” she smiled softly, “just a friend.”

Melinda nodded with a small smile, and Tian reciprocated the gesture, before removing her hand and rising from her seat, leaving her daughter alone with her thoughts as she walked to the kitchen.

“Thank you Mama,” Melinda whispered quietly, the sound of her words getting absorbed by the silence of the house. She wasn’t sure when she had turned to her mother for relationship advice, but her mother’s simple words had calmed her more than anything Natasha or Bobbi had told her the previous week.

Her mother still heard her though, and Tian nodded to herself whilst she set about preparing a large pot of chamomile tea for the two of them to share, picking bone-china teacups from the cupboard and finding the matching saucers to go with them.

Her daughter had never been the easiest person to communicate with over the years; Melinda’s inability to express her thoughts through words having come up many a time during their discussions. But then again, Tian realised with a wry smile, as she poured the hot water into the pot, the steam brushing past her and warming her face, she knew exactly who Melinda got it from.


	11. July

 

**July**

****  
“So, how was the honeymoon?!” Natasha was practically bouncing around with excitement. She was leaving for another ballet tour across South America the next day, so she was desperate to hear all the gossip before she left. **  
**

“Oh gosh,” Maria replied, her eyes drifting into a dream-like state as she remembered. “It was so amazing!”

Her, Natasha and Melinda were at the latter two’s flat, the three sat around on the sofas having a lazy night in. Maria had returned the week before, and Nat had been dying to find out all the gossip from paradise.

They’d lined up several action movies, bottles of various drinks, and a plentiful supply of snacks to keep them going. Unfortunately, Bobbi was on shift, so couldn’t join them, but other than that, all three were thoroughly looking forward to the evening.

“Was it sunny everyday?”

“Yep.” Maria nodded, taking a sip of her orange and smiling happily. “It was so hot, and the beaches were to die for.”

“Clear seas?”

“Clearest I’ve ever seen, we went scuba diving on the reef which was just an incredible experience.”

“Wow.”

“Here,” Maria bent down, and grabbed her handbag from beside the sofa, unzipping it and pulling out her phone. “I’ve got some pictures on here… the rest are on Steve’s camera.”

She loaded up the images and turned the screen to face both her friends, who were crowded around her in order to see.

Gradually she began to flick through them, visions of crystal oceans and untouched beaches filling the screen, interspersed with photographs of Maria and Steve smiling, laughing, and having the time of their lives.

“It looks like paradise” Melinda sighed, shaking her head at a photograph of the sun setting over the horizon, a multitude of crimson, coral and violet shimmering across the sky.

“It pretty much was.”

“Are you ever going to go back?” Natasha asked, returning to her side of the sofa once the slideshow was over.

“Definitely, but only for a special occasion you know?”

“Like anniversaries, big birthdays, that kind of thing?”

“Yep.” Maria finished off her orange, placing the glass onto the table in front of her, and dropping her phone back into her bag.

“Maria, you want another drink? Maybe… wine or a cocktail?” Natasha had a glint in her eye as she asked, and Melinda immediately knew full well what she was getting at.

“What? No, I’m okay thanks.”

Natasha looked at Melinda pointedly, raising her eyebrows before turning back to Maria. “Are you sure? Not like you…”

Maria was clearly trying hard not to smile.

“Okay, there’s something I need to tell you both.”

“Go on” Melinda replied, smiling already; she knew exactly what her friend was about to say. They both knew, and it had been so hard not to say anything recently, not until she was ready.

“Well, I guess it’s time you guys knew…” Maria took a deep breath, biting her lip in anticipation. “I’m pregnant.”

Natasha practically leapt from the sofa, scattering cushions across the floor as she launched herself at Maria, pulling her into a tight hug. “I knew it!”

“You did?!”

Natasha grinned. “Of course, you weren’t drinking and you and Steve couldn’t stop smiling at the wedding -

“- We’d just got married.”

“- And you were acting all maternal towards Lola and just…. I’m so happy for you M!”

“Me too” Melinda grinned, joining the two of them in the hug they were currently sharing.

They’d been right in their guesses, but now that she had actually admitted she was having a baby, it felt so much more real.

“So,” Melinda said, after they had all sat back down, Natasha replacing the cushions and Maria wiping tears from her eyes - she totally blamed hormones. “How far along are you?”

“Just over three months.”

“So… baby is due in January?” Natasha asked, mentally calculating the next six months of their lives as she sipped her drink once more.

Maria nodded in response.

Melinda grabbed a handful of pretzels from the bowl, and nibbled on them absently. “We’re you guys trying?”  she asked, tipping her head to the side slightly in question. She had to admit, they told each other pretty much everything, and Maria hadn’t said anything about wanting to start a family so soon.

“Well,” Maria almost laughed. “We talked about it a lot, and knew we wanted kids, so we decided to stop not trying if that makes sense?” she shrugged. “We just didn’t think it would happen so fast! We thought it might take a few months but… apparently not.”

“But you’re happy?” Natasha asked, the smile permanently rooted on her face at her friends news.

“We’re so happy, honestly, I’ve been dying to tell you all since like… April!”

Melinda wasn’t sure she had ever seen Maria smile so much. Not even on her wedding day, and that was definitely saying something. She leaned over the couch to give her another hug.

“Have you been for a scan yet?”

“Yes!” Maria bent back down to grab her bag, and pulled out her diary. Slipped within the cover, was a small black and white scan of their baby.

“I know you can’t really see anything at the moment, but that bean-shaped thing?”

Natasha and Melinda nodded in time with each other.

“That’s the baby.”

“Wow. Do you know if it’s a boy or girl yet?” Natasha asked, staring in wonder at the ultrasound image.

“No, they usually can tell by around sixteen to twenty weeks, but I don’t think we’re going to find out anyway.”

“Leave it a surprise” Melinda smiled. If she ever had a kid, she’d probably want to keep it a surprise too.

“Exactly.”

Everything really was going to change.

* * *

“Did you hurt yourself?” Lola asked Melinda with a frown, and she glanced down to see what the girl was talking about. She realised pretty quickly that she meant her scars, the two on her stomach clearly visible in the afternoon sunshine as she lay in a bikini top.

She’d always been self-conscious of them, but the more Phil told her she was still beautiful despite them, the more confident she became, and wearing a bikini to the beach was a step she’d not taken for a very long time.

“I got hurt a few years ago,” she explained with a sad smile. “But they’re okay now.”

The three of them had taken a weekend trip with Maria and Steve to the coast, hiring out a pair of neighbouring small wooden cabins along the beach-front in order to enjoy the summer sunshine.

Phil was officially on half term for the next few months, and he intended to spend as much of it as possible with family.

Maria and Steve seemed to be having honeymoon withdrawal symptoms, and the few days away had actually been Steve’s idea; a way to get everyone together and have fun, doing something a little bit different.

They had invited Anne along too, but she had insisted “You kids go and have fun”, to which Phil had responded something along the lines of “we’re both around thirty years old mother, we aren’t kids” and Maria had rolled her eyes with a grin, kissing her mom on the cheek before they left.

Melinda had automatically been counted as invited, both Steve and Maria already seeing her as a part of the family, and where Phil and Lola went, Melinda was going too. It was something she was still getting used to, but she definitely was not complaining.

“Are they scars?” Lola asked curiously, reaching out to touch one of them with a small finger. Melinda could sense Maria listening to their conversation, despite the fact she looked like she was asleep on the sand; she was one of the few people who had not only seen the scars fully, but who also knew how Melinda felt about them. Melinda unconsciously looked at her friend’s stomach as she replied; her skin might soon be marked too, stretch marks were meant to be a common accompaniment to pregnancy.

“Yeah.”

“Will my knee do that?”

“No, probably not,” Melinda replied encouragingly, not wanting to worry her about the potential for her knee to be marked permanently.

Lola had fallen over in the playground the previous week when it had just been the two of them, and had cut both her knees open on the gravelly tarmac below. One was worse than the other though, and as Melinda had wiped away first the tears, and then the blood, bandaging the cuts gently, she’d felt so guilty that she’d let her get hurt.

They hardly ever went out the two of them, and Phil could tell she was feeling bad about it when they got back to his house later that afternoon. He’d kissed Lola on the forehead, promising her she would be fine, and then he’d kissed Melinda on the forehead too, promising her it was normal for children to fall and hurt themselves.

Lola seemed to accept her knee would be okay though, and stood up again, her small feet scrunching into the warm golden sand below.

“Can we go in the sea?” she asked Melinda, looking out to where the gentle waves were sweeping up the shore. She’d been learning to swim for months, and was desperate to show off what she could do.

“We’ll wait for your dad and Steve to get back, okay?”

Phil and Steve had nipped over the supermarket across the road, aiming to purchase some bottles of cold water that would keep them all cool. They’d be back with them any minute, and Melinda didn’t really want the responsibility of taking his daughter into the sea with her alone anyway, despite how often Phil told her he trusted her with Lola completely.

When he and Steve finally returned, they did indeed carry with them a supply of beverages to keep them all refreshed, but Phil was carrying several ice-lollies as well, and Steve handed Lola a brand new bucket and spade he’d picked up for her, to help her build castles in the sand.

They all sipped on the iced lollies, chatting lightly as the sun shone overhead, and when Lola managed to drop hers into the sand, Maria handed her the rest of her own, claiming it made her a little queasy anyway. She’d been unable to keep a lot of food down recently, and whilst the adults all knew the reason for it, Lola did not – yet – therefore it was an acceptable excuse to her.  

Phil made sure Lola was completely sun-creamed up once more; double checking it was on her ears and nose, before he decided she was okay to play around on the beach for a few more hours. He didn’t want her sunburned at all, knowing first-hand how much it hurt, so he made sure she promised to keep her hat and sunglasses on, which she did, grudgingly.

When she was completely creamed up, sat down on the sand with her new bucket and spade, building what she claimed to Steve to be castles and moats, Phil turned to Melinda, who was lying on her back with her eyes closed and looking for all the world like she was fast asleep.

“Do you need any cream?” he asked, as she peeled her eyes open, shading them from the glare of the sun with one hand.

“I’ll need my back doing later…”

“Right, we’ll do it now, up you get,” he grinned, pulling her up by her hands as she grumbled about being comfortable. She was pretty sure he just was using sun-cream as an excuse to touch her skin, but decided not to complain when he moved behind her, and she felt his hands begin to caress her back.

“Have you actually put cream on or are you just massaging me?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, watching into the distance as she felt him press down into her muscles with dry palms.

“Maybe I forgot the cream,” he replied with a murmur, his face a lot closer to her ear than she had realised; she could feel his breath against her neck, and he placed a kiss against the tattoo at the top of her spine.

“Phil” she warned quietly; he knew full well it would drive her mad, and being on a public beach was not the place for his teasing if he wanted to live.

“Mmm?” He placed another kiss onto her shoulder, and she physically turned around to face him, seeing the smug look on his face and rolling her eyes.

“Sun-cream, now.”

Maria sat up from her sunbathing, and threw them both a glare. “Can you two not keep your hands off each other for one day?”

He smirked at his sister as she picked the bottle of sun-cream up from the sand. “Nope,” he grinned. “Pass us that cream?”

Maria threw it at him with a roll of her eyes. He caught it with one hand, and proceeded to pour some out into his hands. “Mel, turn around?”

This time he did put it on… but his hands still lingered against her skin longer than they needed to. Not that she was complaining.

He let her get back to her relaxing after a while, but not before he’d trailed more kisses down her neck, partly to wind up Maria some more, and partly because he just couldn’t resist.

When he joined Steve and Lola building castles, Lola begged him to let her go into the sea, and he agreed, Steve saying he would stay up on the beach and catch some rays for a while.

Phil held tightly onto Lola as they jumped the waves, the salt spray of water hitting them in the face each time they washed past. She squealed and laughed as a particularly large wave lifted them even higher than before, and Phil held her under her arms, picking her up out of the water and pretending he would throw her into the sea.

Melinda headed out to join them in the water a little while later, but not to play around; she floated on her back, star-fished out across the surface of the sea, and gently drifted back towards the shore as the tide went in. Something about water relaxed her, the combination of the warmth of the sun on her skin, the sound of waves crashing around her, and the scent of salt water overwhelming her senses, all lulled her into a calm she only usually achieved through meditation.

Her relaxation period was cut short however, when the sound of somebody swimming right next to her caught her attention, and she felt a pair of hands grab hold of her legs, pulling her towards them.

“Phil!” she growled in warning, watching his grin widen as she glanced over his shoulder and back to the beach, where Lola was now back to playing in the sand, this time with Maria. Melinda wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her just out of her depth, clinging onto him whilst he bent down, hoisting his arms under her thighs and lifting her up.

“Hmmm?”

“You know exactly what.”

“Do I?”

“You’re in a very… mischievous mood today.”

“You love it” he said smiling, before leaning his head forwards, and placing a kiss into her right collarbone, the taste of saltwater lingering on his lips.

They stood together in the ocean for a while, simply holding one another as the cool waves washed past. After a while Melinda rested her head on his shoulder, sweeping her wet hair out of the way with one hand, and Phil lay his chin against the top of her head, sighing happily.

“Tonight,” he said quietly, murmuring into her ear whilst they bobbed in the waves. “Maria has said she wants to take Lola to the kids disco under the hotel, so I was thinking we could go to that restaurant you wanted to visit?”

“The seafood one?”

“Yeah. Just the two of us for a few hours.”

“I’d like that,” she replied, looking back up to him with a smile. “I might wear that black dress you enjoy,” she added, watching him suggestively. “The one with the cut outs down the side?”

He grinned at her idea, and lightly pressed his lips against her own.

“Yes please.”

* * *

Melinda dressed herself in the one fancy outfit she had brought with her, and turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. She had to admit, the black dress she was wearing was definitely one of her best, hugging in exactly the right places and showing off her waist through elegant diamonds along the sides.

Phil loved it, so she always enjoyed wearing it more to see his reaction than anything else.

“Looking good Mel” Maria chimed, wandering into the bedroom without a knock and closing the door behind her. She plonked herself down onto the bed with a tired smile.

“You okay?” Melinda asked, frowning as her friend closed her eyes.

“Yeah, just… I’m exhausted and we haven’t done anything today.”

Melinda smiled, turning back to the mirror to sort her hair out. “That’s because you’re pregnant.”

“I know, I just… I don’t like being tired.”

“Get used to it.”

“I know, I know.” She sat back up, and watched as Melinda pulled all her hair forwards, running the straighteners over it several times to ensure it was sleek. “Steve has taken Lola down to that little supermarket… I think he promised her she could choose a load of the ingredients for tea.”

“Are you both okay looking after her tonight?”

“Of course,” Maria laughed slightly, watching the sun setting through the bedroom window, “anyway, it’ll give us practise.”

“Lola doesn’t know yet,” Melinda added, “That you’re pregnant?”

“No, we’re going to tell her tonight.”

It was a big thing, that she was going to get her first cousin, and Maria had asked Phil if she could tell her niece herself; he had only been too happy to let her, but they had been waiting till the right time. Just announcing it to her in their kitchen back home for instance, hadn’t seemed right.

“So,” Maria asked, stretching out and following Melinda around the room with her eyes.”Where are you both going tonight?”

“There’s a seafood restaurant along the front that I said looked amazing, and so Phil promised we could go.”

“You both seem so happy,” Maria commented genuinely, pulling her own hair out of the ponytail it had been in all day.

Melinda turned to face her friend. “We are.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“...yes?” She wondered if she would regret giving her permission; the way Maria had worded her question right after discussing her and Phil made Melinda suspicious.

“You’re in love with him, right?”

Melinda turned around fully, leaning against the chest of drawers behind her. “Yes.”

“Do you think… this is it?”

“You mean -?”

“I mean, is he your one true love and all that?”

Melinda raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing.

“Come on Mel, please? I just… I wanna know if we’re going to be sisters or something one day.”

“I’ve never felt like this, if that’s what you’re asking.” She ignored the second half of Marias statement. Because sisters meant marriage, and that was definitely not something either her nor Phil had even mentioned, let alone considered. It had been less than a year for goodness sake.

Maria nodded knowingly however, and smirked a little. “Yep, that’s exactly what I meant.”

* * *

Phil and Melinda stayed out until almost eleven, before deciding they should probably return and take Lola off of Steve and Maria’s hands.

They strolled back slowly though, taking a detour via the beach, and walked barefoot in the moonlight, hand in hand.

At some point, Phil stopped them, and pulled her gently against him, kissing her softly as the waves crashed behind them. Melinda scrunched her toes into the sand as she tugged him closer, and the two simply stood watching the sea washing closer and closer, the scent of salt filling their senses.

It was a moment that would be ingrained into both of their memories for life.

* * *

“She’s still up?” Phil asked, once he reached Maria and Steve’s cabin, slightly, but not entirely surprised that Lola was awake; naturally, it was Maria’s fault. It was normal really, and Maria thoroughly took advantage of being the “cool aunt”. Lola loved her for it. Anyway, they were on holiday, so it didn’t matter so much that Lola wasn’t asleep by her usual bedtime.

From the sight of his daughter, he could tell she’d been laughing a lot. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her hair was flying all over the place; he knew that look - somebody had been tickling her.

“Yeah, we were partying, weren’t we kid?”

Lola nodded, but Phil could see in her eyes she was ready for bed.

“Partying! Wow, what do you say Lola?”

“Thank you for looking after me.”

“No problem,” Maria smiled, ruffling Lola’s hair up a little bit and bending down to place a kiss on her niece’s forehead. Steve, who was stood by her side, did the same.

“Okay munchkin, bedtime,” Phil said once they’d done, picking her up with both arms and sitting her on his hip. She didn’t fight it, and as he thanked Maria and Steve for looking after her for the evening – despite the fact it was late – he felt her begin to fall asleep on him where they were stood, and she snuggled into him, wrapping both arms around his neck.

“We’ll see you both in the morning,” he added, as he left his sister and brother-in-law to it for the night. “Bye!”

“See you tomorrow Phil” called Steve, before closing the door behind him.

Once Phil returned to their wooden home, Melinda opened the door to find a completely unconscious Lola being carried by Phil, who put her to bed as she was. There was no point waking her up now she was asleep, just to get her to clean her teeth and changed into her pyjamas.

Once Lola was tucked up in bed with her cuddly shark toy on one side, and her small dragon on the other – it had been a slight battle to get her to not bring the entire menagerie of stuffed animals with her on the trip – Phil headed back onto the balcony to join Melinda, who was reading a book on her e-reader in the calming breeze.

He sat down on the chair next to her, and looked out at the view from their room. He could see the ocean, the water now appearing like a still, dark lake, the occasional ripple across the surface the only indication it was in fact the ocean, and not a pond. The moonlight was reflected on the surface, a white glimmer amongst the dark of night all around, and he realised he hadn’t been anywhere so peaceful in his entire life.

He spent the next ten minutes just watching Melinda reading by candlelight, the gentle glow of the flame illuminating her face.

When they went to bed an hour later, Phil spent half the night just watching her sleep, wondering how he’d managed to find somebody so perfect.

* * *

Phil had swung open his wardrobe doors, on the hunt for one of his favourite shirts, when he found them.

In fairness, he’d begun to realise a few weeks back, but had just brushed it aside. But there it was, another piece of evidence.

Next to where his grey suit was hung, was a row of several items that did not belong to him. Various shirts, with buttons or zips, mostly black, a red dress that certainly did not belong to him, and a leather jacket, with silver fastenings shining in the sunlight coming through the window opposite.

Phil smiled as he closed the wardrobe doors once more, the hinges creaking slightly in the silence of the room.

There were signs of Melinda all over his house. And he had been noticing them everywhere more and more frequently.

Her clothes in his cupboard, her fruit teas in the kitchen, shoes in the hallway, make-up and toiletries in the bathroom.

The lingering scent of her perfume that occupied the pillow on her side of the bed.

Paintings she had made with Lola, of planets and oceans and dragons, that now adorned his daughter’s bedroom walls.

The books littering his living room shelves, which he could not remember buying at all.

She was at his house with he and Lola, more than she was at her own flat these days, and it hadn’t escaped his notice. He loved her being there too, and the nights she returned to her own place left him lying awake at night, having gotten used to listening to the gentle rhythm of her breaths as she slept beside him.

Phil wondered what Melinda would say, if he asked her to move in with them permanently. After all, she was practically living there anyway...

* * *

Phil awoke slowly, the dream he had been having quickly fading from his mind, like water pouring away down a stream, mixing with his other thoughts and being lost for good.

He opened his eyes and rolled over onto his side, coming face to face with a softly smiling Melinda, who was propped up on her pillow with one elbow.

“Morning” he said croakily, the remnants of sleep still lingering in his body as he gradually adjusted.

“Hey” she replied simply, watching as he rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Happy Birthday, Captain.”

Phil smiled, taking a deep breath as her words sunk in. It was true, it was his birthday.

He was officially thirty-three years old. That felt… old.

Well, it wasn’t old as such, but to him, it was. It was almost five years older than Melinda for example, who was still enjoying the youth of her late twenties...

“Thanks.”

Melinda wriggled forwards in the bed, refusing to relinquish the blankets she was currently in control of - she kept stealing them from him in the night, and no matter what he just couldn’t bear to pull them back away from her again whilst she slept - and pressed a gentle kiss against his lips.

“Do you want your presents now, or later?”

He was unable to answer, because at that moment there was a creak of floorboards in the next room, followed by footsteps moving across the landing, halting outside of their room. Phil and Melinda both glanced towards the door, and waited until the sounds of timid knocking met their ears. Knocking when a door was closed was a rule Phil had implemented, now that Melinda stayed over so frequently; there was no chance in hell he wanted his daughter walking in on something she really should not be seeing at her age.

“Are you awake?” Lola asked quietly, Melinda having to strain her ears to actually hear her properly.

“Yeah, we are.”

With that, the door opened slowly, and Lola bounded into the room, carrying with her two gifts, wrapped in red and white paper, with blue ribbons fastening them together. Phil couldn’t help but smile at the choice of colours.

She jumped up onto the bed, and, having left both presents on the covers, launched herself into Phil’s arms, squealing as he pulled her into a bear hug, growling at her as she tried to escape.

“Daddddddd!”

“Yessss?”

“Let go!”

Melinda watched them with a laugh, refusing to help when Lola looked at her helplessly, and simply moved Phil’s presents out of harms way.

He eventually let go of his daughter, and she shuffled across the bed so she was in between the two of them. Lola grabbed one of the gifts from Melinda, and handed it to Phil.

“Happy Birthday Daddy.”

“Thank you princess.” He took the gift from her and opened it, letting Lola play with the ribbon after he had removed it.

“Oh wow!”

A new pair of pyjamas, with a white shirt and patterned bottoms, covered in the shield insignia of Captain America.

Lola smiled proudly at his reaction. “Melinda let me choose them, do you like them?”

“Yes, I love them, thank you!”

She thrust the second gift into his hands as he placed the pyjamas next to him, and he took it from her with a chuckle, making light work of the tangle of curled ribbons he had a slight inkling Melinda might have tied.

His face lit up when it turned out the box Lola had wrapped, contained a selection of homemade biscuits, each covered in rainbow icing and silver balls, and suspiciously in the shape of the cutters Melinda had bought Lola.

“Did you bake these yourself Lo?”

She glanced over to Melinda, biting her lip a bit. “Melinda helped…”

“She did most of it herself,” she clarified, smiling at Lola with an encouraging nod. “I only helped weigh out ingredients and sort the oven out.”

“Thank you sweetheart” Phil said wholeheartedly, pulling his daughter sideways into another hug.

“ ‘Welcome… can I have a biscuit?”

He nodded as she reached into the box, picking a star-shaped one covered in blue icing, and she jumped back off the bed. “Can I watch tv?”

“Yes, we’ll be down in a bit.”

Lola nodded happily, before skipping from the room, her feet padding down the stairs, and Phil knew full well he’d find a trail of cookie crumbs leading him to the front room when he finally left.

He turned to face Melinda once more, who was reaching over to her bedside table, pulling open a draw and taking something out. She turned back to him with a small smile.

“Here you go” she said simply, handing him a plain envelope made of thick white paper, with his named scrolled across the front. “Happy Birthday Phil.”

He opened it carefully, attempting not to rip the paper, and pulled out a card from within.

Two tickets fell out and onto his lap, and he picked them up with a puzzled expression, before reading the card.

As his eyes scanned the page, they widened, and Melinda smiled properly as the grin broke out across his face.

“Is this for real?” he asked, staring at her in wonder.

She laughed and nodded. “Yes.”

“So, you’re telling me, that in two weeks from now, the two of us are going to New York, visiting a science-fiction/superhero exhibition at the Hall of Science, and then spending the rest of the weekend in a five star hotel??”

“Yep. Lola is staying with Maria and Steve for the weekend, and your Mom said she could look after her if we get delayed or anything coming back... I take it you want to go then?” she added, seeing his smile just keep on growing.

“So much!”

“Good, because it was a bitch to organise.”

Phil laughed, re-reading the card once more.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I know” she grinned.

He placed the card onto his bedside table, and reached out for her, letting her rest her head against his shoulder as he held her close.

“Thank you Mel,” he kissed the top of her head. “I hope you know, I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Okay, so maybe birthdays weren’t so bad.

 


	12. August

**August**

 

It was the summer holidays still, and like she usually was on a Thursday, Lola was at her aqua-class.

She was close to taking another one of her badges, and Phil was so proud of the progress she had made over the past ten months. He was glad he’d signed her up for the classes; being able to swim was something he thought all kids should learn at a young age.

Phil had spent the morning taking her shopping for a brand new set of clothing she could wear to school in September; his little girl was so grown up, beginning elementary school.

He couldn’t believe where the years had gone, it felt like only a few months before and he’d been - badly - singing her to sleep as a newborn.

Instead of taking Melinda out for lunch however, like he so often did during these last few months, she was working, covering extra shifts so that the two of them would have more money for New York.

He’d told her it was fine, that he wanted to pay for things whilst they were there, but she had insisted - multiple times - that this was his birthday treat, and so she was paying. In fact, she had glared at him the third time he suggested it, and he hadn’t brought it up again.

So, Melinda was working, and Lola was learning, but what Phil should have been doing, and what he was actually doing, were two very different things.

He should have brought his laptop with him and maybe sat in the café next door to get some marking or planning done for the upcoming semester.

What he was doing, was standing in a room full of similarly dressed gym-goers, about to take his first ever lesson of kick-boxing.

Melinda stood at the front and smirked at him. She’d told him, in the nicest way possible, that it was probably a bad idea, and that he should go for something a little less strenuous for his first class. But he’d wanted to see her in action, and he soon learned that people didn’t just sit and absently observe one of her classes.

They took part and they worked.

She set the class about doing warm up exercises, which she too took part in, and after ten minutes, half the class already looked exhausted, yet Melinda looked like she’d only just arrived.

He grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes with a small smile, continuing her class.

There was something therapeutic about punching the bag in front of him, and Phil quickly understood why she enjoyed teaching the class so much. Each hit felt like a release of tension and stress, and by the end of the lesson, whilst he felt honestly exhausted, he felt lighter too.

He waited until the rest of the class had left, before wrapping his arms around her at the front of the room.

“Did you enjoy it?” she asked, linking her fingers through his and leaning back against him with a sigh.

“I did. I’ve not really seen this side of you before…”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean I see you in charge pretty often,” he began, before she elbowed him softly in the ribs, and he laughed. “Okay, okay, I just mean, like a teacher, showing everyone how to do it… it was kind of hot.”

“You liked that?”

He didn’t have to see her to know she would have a smug smile on her face at that time, so he simply lowered his lips towards her ear.

“I did.”

“You like me being in control?”

“You know full well I do… hence each night you -”

She elbowed him again before he had the chance to finish.

* * *

On the following Saturday, Phil woke Lola early, before carrying her to the car in her pyjamas.

The three of them drove to Maria and Steve’s house in the dawn quiet, Lola dropping back off at some point on the journey.

When she arrived at her aunt’s, Maria took her inside and let her go back to bed, before wishing Phil and Melinda a good weekend.

Their flight left at eight-am, so they had just over an hour or so before needing to board.

After checking in, they simply strolled around the terminal, watching the growing number of people rubbing tired eyes. They sipped hot drinks from a café by their gate, and Melinda muttered an apology over the time of their flight.

She used to be a morning person, finding getting up at the crack of dawn just a normal everyday occurrence. But Phil slept in, and over the past few months she’d found her own sleep schedule gradually altering slightly, to the point that some mornings, she had no desire whatsoever to get out of bed.

It was strange.

When they boarded, it was on time - to their relief - and no sooner had they taken their seats and the safety demonstrations been carried out, they were off.

Phil tried desperately to wipe the smirk off his face when he saw her expression some time later; she seemed to be physically restraining herself from flying over the back of her seat and killing the child kicking it. It was only a toddler, and they soon stopped when they fell asleep - Phil kept glancing through the gap in the chairs - but he knew if he had taken Lola on a flight at that age, he would have stopped her right away if she had dared to kick the seats.

The moment they touched down in New York, Melinda was up however, out of her chair and desperate to get off the aircraft, muttering about how the only time she would like being on a plane, was if she got to fly it herself.

Phil couldn’t help but think she would actually be a pretty good pilot, but he wasn’t sure why.

The queue for security moved quickly, and once they reached baggage reclaim, Phil was pleased to see their case come through within twenty minutes of arrival. They had shared one, seeing as their trip was only for a few days, and neither of them was overly materialistic in their travels.

Although he had definitely noticed Melinda sneaking some hair-straighteners in after he’d already sealed their case up...

Phil had only been to New York once in his life. It had been in his early twenties, when he and his mother had come down with Maria, for her eighteenth birthday. They’d seen a show on Broadway, followed by a meal and a night in a five star hotel; Maria had adored every moment of it, and for a while, insisted she would one day be on the stage.

Driving to the hotel in the taxi now, Phil didn’t see much that had changed. If somebody had told him several years ago that one day he would be returning, but this time with a beautiful woman on his arm, to see a superhero convention, he would probably have laughed them out of the door.

But here they were, and when they pulled up in front of their hotel, Phil helped Melinda out of the taxi with a boyish grin, taking her hand and bowing slightly as she stepped out; he said something along the lines of “after you, m’lady”, and she shot him her trademark roll of the eyes that he loved so much.

They literally dumped their suitcase into the room, quickly freshening themselves up before leaving once more.

Phil had taken a glance around the suite whilst Melinda had been in the bathroom, and he had to admit he almost felt guilty they would be out all day. It was gorgeous, furnished in creams and oranges, with deep crimson cushions and dark mahogany furniture.

As soon as she was out, they left again, heading across the city to the exhibition, hoping to make the most of it. It was only around eleven in the morning, having flown early, so there wasn’t really any rush.

When they arrived, Melinda handed the tickets over at reception, receiving the maps detailing the locations of each themed zone, and an information leaflet, both of which she put into her back pocket and ignored. They were just going to wander freely, and Phil took her hand as they walked out of the foyer.

They wandered through a set of double doors and into the light studio, where there was a lecturer leading a tour party comprised mainly of tourists, around the makeshift movie set in front of them. The leader called for everyone to stand still for a moment whilst the demonstration took place, and before they knew it the room had been plunged into darkness.

Seconds later, strobe lighting began to resonate across the walls and floor, violent flashes of white that caused dots in both of their eyes each time either of them blinked.

This was followed by soft, lazy colours tracing patterns along the floor, snaking around the guests before flickering away.

The various lighting types continued for a while longer, before the regular returned, and they were free to move to the next room.

There were demonstrations of sound effects, how everyday objects could be recorded and simply then used as a sound for something else; one example was the hissing of a giant reptile, created simply by rustling foiled crepe paper. Alone, it seemed silly, but when teamed with the CGI demonstration, it fitted in perfectly.

They stopped for lunch in the restaurant area for a while, sharing opinions and thoughts and listening to the general hubbub of noise around them before continuing to the next zone.

This was where Melinda had wanted to bring him.

Stepping into the exhibition centre, they entered the beginning of the superhero display.

Phil squeezed her hand as they walked in, and it was all she could do to not laugh out loud at his dorky expression of excitement at the room in front of them.

There was at first a comic book centre, with thousands of comics on display, from first print editions that were framed behind glass, price tags indicating costs of into six digits in many cases, to the newest editions of all the latest trends.

There was an array of colour and design, with artists demonstrating techniques to draw each strip by hand, showing the detail that went into colouring and filling.

There were also computer systems showing how other comics were designed using technology, and the differences between the hand-drawn and the photoshopped ones being displayed side by side.

The next room regarded the history of the “superhero” figure, giving examples from myth and legend of those society looked up to in roles of great power, and those believed to have gifts no other human possessed.

It tracked the rise of the superhero from niche market to mainstream entertainment, and a selection of academic articles were on display detailing the history behind some of the worlds best loved fictional stars. 

Melinda wasn't overly bothered with reading them, but Phil did, so she happily wandered the room whilst he read, simply absorbing the atmosphere and feeling ridiculously happy that he was enjoying his birthday present so much.

The third room in the superhero exhibit was filled with costume design, and she had to roll her eyes as Phil practically squealed with excitement over the detail on some of them.

He particularly loved the Captain America outfits; they had been used in blockbuster movies that shot the soldier into the lives of a whole new generation of fans, but they replicated the designs from the original comic series to the tiniest of details.

He admired the shield and star-spangled banners, before reluctantly moving on to the other costumes, looking at capes and masks and other methods used to hide one’s identity as a superhero.

Finally, the tour was at an end, but not before he grabbed Melinda by the hand and dragged her into the gift shop, where he continued to flail like a child.

After a ridiculous amount of deliberation, he bought Lola a new set of cookie-cutters, each shaped like a different comic-book star of the Avengers, before having to restrain himself from getting a full size replica Captain America costume.

Melinda refused to sway him either way, telling him it was his choice; in the end he resisted, but not before he’d tried it on and made her take photographs.

She was in love with a complete and utter dork.

She did insist he get something however, but his complete indecision between the intricately crafted figurine, and the signed print of an Avengers spread, left her rolling her eyes once more.

After all, following a trip like this, a souvenir was definitely needed.

* * *

 

When they returned to the hotel an hour or so later, Phil just kept repeating over and over how much he had loved the day.

It was all Melinda could do to keep the smile off her face.

“I don’t even know how to repay you for this” he told her genuinely, for what was possibly the fifth or sixth time within ten minutes.

“Well…” she smirked mischievously, and he watched the glint in her eyes as she traced as fingertip down the front of his shirt. “We were supposed to go for dinner somewhere tonight, but we could stay here instead? Get room-service? And just, enjoy ourselves?”

“Now that,” he murmured, before taking a step closer, leaving her pinned between the cool hotel wall and the heat of his body, “is an excellent idea.”

“I do have them sometimes.”

* * *

The next day they decided to do the typical tourist thing, and go and see the sights of the city.

Well, when in New York…

Their first stop was the Empire State building, as they wanted to beat the crowds that would no doubt ascend as the day wore on and the city got busier.

After handing over their money, they stood side-by-side in the lift as it made it’s way towards the top, and before they knew it they were there, looking over the vast expanse of city below, buildings and skyscrapers sweeping into the distance in every direction.

Phil pulled his camera out, and insisted on photographing Melinda against the backdrop, but for once, she didn’t object. She even asked the couple beside them if they would mind taking a photograph of the two of them together.

Later they visited the Rockerfeller Centre, browsing the shops and exploring the vast building for what felt like hours.

They saw the Chrysler building, and the Natural History Museum, before the two spent some time at Ground Zero, and paid their respects to all those who so tragically had lost their lives there.

They felt like they had been walking all day when they reached Central Park, and they wandered hand in hand along the pathways in the early evening, taking in the lush greenery of their surroundings, and mingling with the people around them.

There were office workers, enjoying their freedom with friends and colleagues having finished for the day; there were children, crouched down and sailing paper boats on the rippled surface of a large pond; there were families eating evening picnics on the grasses all over, their spreads laid out across checkered blankets with ease.

They stopped at a small hut, wooden with a thatched roof and a friendly attendee inside, and purchased ice-creams, covered in sweet raspberry syrup and topped with chocolate flakes.

Melinda made happy humming noises as they ate, and he hadn’t been sure he could love her more until that moment.

She got a smudge of sauce on her lip at one point, and Phil could do no more than bend down to kiss it off, letting his touch linger a little longer than was probably necessary.

They watched the sun begin to set, sinking low over the silhouette of the city, and it was Melinda who curled herself against Phil, leaning her head against his shoulder and linking both hands with his, as they stood, observing the giant orb of fire in the sky gradually descend, bringing night to the city they were only resident in for another twelve hours.

“Thank you so much for doing this Mel” Phil murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. They had needed a weekend or so away with each other, a chance to be alone and recalibrate and just be Phil and Melinda, not teachers or a parent or a best friend listening to relationship woes.

Maria had told Phil, that a weekend away just the two of them would either make them, or break them as a couple, and though he’d never doubted that it would be the former, he still felt a small sense of relief that the last few days had been one hundred percent perfect.

* * *

“How do babies get here?”

Phil choked on his drink at his daughter's question, freezing his mug halfway towards when he’d been about to put it on the table, and Melinda hid her face behind the book she was now only pretending to read.

He’d not expected her to ask him something like that so young, but seeing as Maria was not only pregnant now, but also beginning to show slightly, and she saw her niece often, it was only natural for Lola to wonder how these things happened.

“How do they get here?” he asked, making sure she was definitely asking what he thought she was, whilst wracking his brains for a response that was suitable for a five year old.

“Yeah. Auntie Maria said the baby is in her tummy, but how?”

“It grows in there,” he said helplessly, looking to Melinda for some kind of assistance; he’d known one day there would be conversations he would struggle to have with his daughter, and this was definitely one of them.

“But how did it get into her tummy?”

“Remember when your dad took you to Build-a-Bear for your birthday?” Melinda chipped in, and Phil wondered wildly where she was going with the memory.

“Yeah?” Lola replied, swinging her legs under her chair in alternate directions.

“Okay, well it’s a bit like that. Two people decide they want to have a baby together, and –“

“Any two people?” she was halfway through her second cookie, watching the two of them as intently as a five year old could do, and Phil had a feeling she wasn’t going to let the conversation go any time soon.

“Two people who love each other,” he clarified, and she nodded in understanding.

“But,” Melinda continued, watching with a hidden smirk as Phil continued to flail around what to say. “Unlike the shop, you can’t choose if a baby is a boy or girl.”

“It’s a surprise?”

“Yep. And you remember watching your unicorn get filled with stuffing?”

Lola nodded.

"Okay, well instead of it growing in a machine, a baby grows in the mommy’s tummy. And instead of stuffing, the baby gets bones and blood and a little heart and a brain too, just like you have.”

“Whilst you wait for the baby to grow,” Phil said, suddenly appreciating the hell out of the creative analogy Melinda had managed to come up with. “You can choose clothes for it –“

“Like dresses or hats?”

“Yes, exactly like them,” he smiled. “And then, after nine months, the mommy goes back to the hospital, and a few hours later –“

“A few?” Melinda raised an eyebrow at him, and he backtracked with a grin.

“Okay, after a long time, all the waiting is over, and you have a baby to take home.”

He was praying she wouldn’t ask how the baby actually got out of the mother, because he was pretty sure that conversation would partially scar her for life at such a young age.

“And then you can choose a name?” she asked instead, thankfully skipping over the parts he’d been dreading.

“Yep.”

“Cool!”

With that she nodded, grabbed another cookie, and wandered back to the living room to find her paint set.

Phil breathed a sigh of relief, and looked over at Melinda, who had picked her book back up as though nothing had happened.

“Thanks Mel, that was actually a really good way to explain it to her.”

She shrugged, glancing up from her page with a smirk. “It was better than watching you flounder around.”

“Hey, I just… I was thinking!”

“Excuses excuses,” she grinned, putting her bookmark between the pages she was on, and closing the book, placing it back onto the table in front of her.

“Although,” he said, watching her carefully. “You weren’t with us that day, so how do you know the exact process of Build-A-Bear?”

She simply smiled, and walked out of the room.

* * *

Melinda stood in the middle of a field, and looked around her, wondering how in the hell she had let Natasha talk her into this.

Her and Phil were somehow on a double date with Clint and Natasha, and whilst at first that had seemed like a great idea - a day out and a bit of fun - when Clint had told them what the plan was, she had been a little less enthusiastic.

He had brought them all to an activity centre he often frequented, out in the countryside somewhere, and they were currently lined up in front of archery targets.

Despite it being August, it was cloudy, and the glares she kept shooting at the sky seemed to be the only thing keeping the rain at bay.

“Okay,” Clint said happily, oblivious to Melinda’s slight lack of enthusiasm. “Now if you turn slightly to the right, so your left side is facing the target, kind of at a right angle?”

Melinda turned grudgingly, before meeting Natasha’s grin, and setting herself back into position to fire.

Clint was amazing - he was hitting the bullseye every single time, no matter what distance away they set the targets up. Melinda could have sworn he even hit one with looking. He said it was just practice and a bit of good fortune he’d been given the talent for it; she’d then had to question the irony of calling his dog Lucky. She just kept licking Melinda’s leg and running around happily.

At least the labrador was having fun.

Natasha had clearly been to the centre with Clint multiple times, because she was actually pretty good. Phil had whistled when Nat’s second arrow hit the inner ring, and Clint had beamed proudly at his little protege, before punching her lightly on the arm.

Phil too, was actually decent, because apparently this was something the two of them had done quite frequently back when they were in college together.

The two kept recalling tales of their youth, adventures of shooting arrows at anything except a target, including the time early on when someone bet Clint he couldn’t hit an apple on the highest branch of a tree, and he ended up shooting it through the tree, missing the apple by millimetres, and smashing the window of the café in the park.

They had apparently stuck to actual target practice after that.

But Melinda just couldn't grasp it. She kept missing. Which Natasha found hilarious, naturally, and proceeded to ensure she had her friend’s grumpy expression captured on camera permanently.

After an hour of flying arrows across the field, they called it quits, and Clint suggested they head over to the climbing wall and do some abseiling. Which Melinda had to admit, sounded a lot more fun.

Clint and Natasha walked back towards the centre together; Clint had one arm resting over Natasha’s shoulders, and a bag of arrows slung over the other.

Lucky ran around like it were the most exciting day ever, barking and chasing the sticks that Clint kept throwing for her, before chewing them slightly and leaving them where she found them, and returning for another.

Mad dog.

From behind, Melinda and Phil watched Clint and Natasha with small smiles. Their little matchmaking session had been a success it appeared - just over three months after being introduced the two acted like they had known each other for years. Which was definitely a good thing, the ease of their relationship was so natural, it was hard to believe it had been under sixteen weeks that they had been seeing each other.

Phil linked his fingers through Melinda’s as they walked back to the site, trailing a little behind the love-birds in front.

He could tell she was a little miffed about not being able to hit the target, but if he was honest, he’d found the fact she couldn’t do it kind of adorable.

“Maybe it’s just not your sport,” he said casually, swinging their arms a little. “You know, you can kickbox, run, do yoga, tai-chi… maybe this just isn’t your thing.”

She simply “hmmm-ed” in response, and Phil had a feeling she’d be back here in a few weeks, trying to hit that target.

* * *

Melinda slowly drifted into consciousness, aware only of the warmth she was surrounded by, and the gentle sensation of fingers stroking down her spine.

Sunday mornings were made for this.

She sighed happily, curling up against Phil under the sheets, and snuggling into the soft fabric of his t-shirt. “I could wake up like this every day.”

Phil kissed her hair, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. They lay in silence for a while, listening to the soft echo of the television from downstairs that signalled Lola being up and about. It was warm, and comfortable, and neither had any desire to move.

“Why don’t we?”

“What do you mean?” Melinda asked sleepily, still only half conscious thanks to encasing warmth, and the familiar comfort she always took from him being so close.

“I mean… move in with us.”

“What?”

That woke her up.

Melinda rolled over so she was lying on her front, resting her head against his chest and looking up at him intently with soft brown eyes.

“Mel, you practically live here anyway,” he said quietly, looking down at her and judging her reaction. “You’re here most days as it is… half your clothes are in my wardrobe, your shampoo is in the bathroom. Lola loves you being here…” He took a deep breath, seeing her lack of argument as a good sign. “I know it’s only been what? Eight months?” he continued. “But it –“

“- It feels right,” she finished, kissing his shoulder and smiling.

“It’s not just me who thinks this, is it?”

Phil knew he was taking a big risk asking her something like this after a short period of time, but it just felt so right to him that he couldn’t not. And he’d already spoken to Lola about the idea, and she had been very excited.

He’d had to make her promise not to tell Melinda anything; keeping secrets was a game she liked to play… she said it made her feel like a spy.

“No, it’s not just you.”

“So… will you think about it?”

She shook her head, and Phil frowned slightly in disappointment, wondering if he had misread her completely.

“I don’t need to think about it,” she murmured, tracing her fingertips across his upper arm. “I love you, Phil, and I’d love to live with you both.”

His frown immediately disappeared, replaced by a beaming smile that she never wanted him to lose.

“Really?”

“Really.”


	13. September

 

**September**

  
September signalled both the end of summer and the beginning of autumn, but also the start of a new term for Phil and Lola.

As the month dawned, things were about to change.

In his opinion, one of the best things about being a teacher, was that Phil got to spend all of the school holidays at home with Lola. He knew he was lucky, getting so much more time off than pretty much everybody else he knew. He’d been able to watch Lola growing up right in front of him, and now his little girl was about to start her next adventure.

That morning, as Phil raced around the house trying to get himself ready for his first day back at work, he was on a double mission.

Lola was beginning her first ever day of school. Her clothing had been chosen the night before, her bag was packed, and everything she would need was ready.

They had all woken early, and whilst Lola dressed herself, and Melinda made her some lunch to take in with her - Phil caught her sneaking a few cookies into the box alongside a sandwich - Phil had to take several deep breaths to remind himself this was really happening.

How could he be more nervous than his own daughter?

Phil grabbed a piece of toast as he hurried through the kitchen, on his way to finding where on earth his car keys had gotten to. As he passed the dining table however, Melinda reached out and took hold of his arm, bringing him to a stop.

“You should get a picture of her” she told him softly, nodding her head towards where Lola stood waiting at the front door, twisting her hands in front of her, and looking a little more anxious than she had been for the past few weeks. “First day of school and all that.”

He grinned at her in response, before pressing a kiss against her forehead. “Do you know where my camera is?”

“Wherever you left it.”

He kissed her again with a small shake of his head, before moving into the next room to look for that as well.  

Melinda turned back to Lola, and headed out into the hall.

“You excited?”

Lola nodded in silence, hair falling into her face, and Melinda crouched down in front of her, brushing the strands back behind her ears. “Do you want me to plait your hair for you? So it’s not in your eyes today?”

Again Lola just nodded, but Melinda smiled, pulling a bobble from her wrist and leading Lola into the living room by the hand. She proceeded to sit on the sofa, pulling Lola to stand in front of her, facing away, and reached up, trailing her fingers through her hair.

“What are you looking forward to most?” she asked quietly, as she split Lola’s hair into three strands and began passing them over each other. She could hear Phil upstairs hunting for the camera.

Lola shrugged in front of her.

“How about making new friends?”

“Yeah,” Lola paused, but Melinda waited for her to continue. “And painting class” she seemed to add as an afterthought.

“You’ll be so good at that” she replied honestly, knowing full well how long she had sat with Lola whilst they painted space and oceans and dragons together.

Melinda tied the band around the end of Lola’s hair, before turning her around to face her, and pulling her plait carefully so it rested down the front of one of her shoulders. Her fringe was left untouched, and Melinda smiled.

“There you go.”

She didn’t miss the shy smile she received in return, or the way Lola reached out and held onto her hand once more; she could tell she was nervous, so she squeezed her hand back gently in support.

“Thank you Melinda.”

“Okay Lo,” Phil announced from the doorway, making both of them turn in his direction; Melinda had no idea how long he’d been stood there. “Can I take a photo of you, for your first day at school?”

She nodded slightly, before Phil led her out into the front garden.

It took ten minutes, but after several pictures of Lola on her own, one of Lola and Phil, one of Lola and Melinda, and then one of all three that a helpful neighbour offered to take, Phil was bundling his daughter into the car, and off for her first day.

Lola waved as they drove away, and Melinda smiled to herself as she headed back into the house, closing the front door behind her and climbing up the stairs, off to get herself ready for work.

She really had found the perfect little family.

* * *

“So Maria,” Melinda asked, pausing in the slicing of her seabass to look up at her friend across the table. “When the baby comes, are you going to stay at home full time, or come back to work after a few weeks?”

Maria chewed thoughtfully, her own cutlery resting on the table in front of her, as she contemplated her answer.

“We were thinking,” she replied, swallowing and taking a sip of water from the iced glass beside her plate. “That for the first few months, I’ll stay at home, and then when I want to start going back to work, Steve is going to drop down his hours and we’ll both do a few days a week, whilst the other looks after baby.”

Steve nodded next to her, seemingly perfectly content to just happily watch his wife enjoying her meal. He had always been attentive to her, Melinda knew that, but since they had gotten married and found out they were expecting, he seemed to look at her with more pride than she would’ve thought possible.

Melinda watched as Steve smiled proudly, and she couldn’t help but feel the overwhelming sense of happiness at her two friends. Despite the fact they had not thought getting pregnant would happen so quickly, both had quickly not only accepted their future was changed for good, but had fully enveloped it, and were taking everything completely in their stride.

“I know what she’s like” he added, elbowing Maria fondly, before looking back up to Melinda and Phil opposite. “She’ll say she’s happy to look after baby on her own, but I know she will be desperate to get back to work after a few weeks at home.”

“Is Tony okay with you taking the time off?” Phil asked, referring to Steve’s boss at Stark Industries. Steve nodded, and sliced another piece off the steak in front of him.

“I spoke to him as soon as we found out, and he was great about it. Said he knew what it was like trying to balance work, a wife, and a child, so I could take what I needed off.”

Maria raised her eyebrows, and shook her head with a smirk, but didn’t interrupt, and the four waiting patiently as the waiter refilled their water jug before carrying on with their conversation.

“So,” Steve continued, after eating another mouthful before it went cold. “If we decide that Maria is going to stay at home for six months, I can either remain at work, or stay home and help her, but if she wants to go back after two months, I can take as much off as I need to look after baby alone.”

Phil remembered how hard it had been for him trying to raise Lola on his own, so listening to Maria and Steve discussing how they were going to work together, left him with mixed emotions. He was confident that his niece or nephew was going to get a better upbringing than they could have dreamed, but he was slightly sorrowful that Lola had never had the chance to be raised by her mother. He wondered how differently she would have turned out, if Audrey had been there.

“Are you okay?” Melinda murmured, resting a hand on his arm, and bringing him out of his momentary journey to the past. He glanced up to meet her concerned gaze, before smiling back at her.

“I’m fine, honestly.” He covered her hand with his own, gently stroking his thumb over her knuckles, before changing the subject. “How is your meal?”

She stared back for a moment, clearly debating whether to press him further or just let it go. She opted for the latter.

“It’s lovely, yours?”

Phil nodded. “It’s really good!” He glanced over at Maria, who was eating the same dish. “What about you M, you like it?”

“Yeah…” she paused, swirling a cherry tomato through the light dressing her chicken had been drizzled with. “And it feels so good to be able to eat something without wanting to throw it back up!”

Her morning sickness had lasted only a few weeks, but for many more after that, any mention of food had sent her queasy. Steve had been getting worried, anxious that both she and the baby would be doing without nutrition they needed, but their doctor assured him that the sickness was normal, and it would pass soon. They had been right, and now Maria was thoroughly enjoying eating for two.  

“We’re going to convert the office upstairs into a nursery” Maria continued, finishing the last of her meal and placing her knife and fork onto her plate. “We don’t use it that much anyway, and it’s a decent size.”

“What are you going to do with all the things in there?” Phil asked, remembering all too well how much stuff a baby actually needed - he’d never have believed it unless he’d been there himself.

“We’ll sell some things” Steve replied, also finishing his meal, and taking a drink of his own water - despite the fact Maria had told him it was fine for him to keep drinking alcohol even though she no longer could, he had insisted upon refraining himself, to support her. “My friend Bucky said he’ll take the desk… he’s just moved in with his girlfriend, Clara, and they’re refurbishing the place. And then we can put the books and things into the attic if we need to.”

“And then we’ll just repaint it and sort out a cot and some storage,” Maria finished for him, smiling over at her husband.

Melinda was pretty sure they were holding hands under the table.

* * *

They sat at the dining table facing each other, Lola attempting to twirl spaghetti around her fork, and failing. Melinda laughed when Lola picked up a strand with her fingers, holding it above her head and dropping it into her mouth, before turning to face her with a grin.

“That’s cheating!”

“Not it isn’t!” Lola shook her head quickly, picking up her cup of milk and sipping from it nonchalantly.

“Yes it is,” Melinda grinned back, tutting as she twirled pasta around her own fork. “Here, watch how I do it, and then you try.”

Lola sat and watched her swirling the strands around several times, copying her after each go. On the fifth attempt, she managed it, and she beamed with happiness when she managed to eat it without everything falling off the fork.

“I did it!”

Melinda smiled as Lola continued eating, loving how such a small thing could mean so much to her.

Once they’d finished their meals, Melinda cleared up, letting Lola watch an hour of her current favourite cartoon. She could hear the tv in the background as she washed the dishes by hand, and the occasional giggle from Lola at something that had happened.

Phil was working late, a staff meeting for the new term having taken up his evening. She knew he’d be back by around eight, but that meant it was just her and Lola until them, and it was up to her to carry out the bedtime routine.

The last time it had been the two of them had been a disaster, but based on current events, she had a feeling tonight was going to be a lot better.

Melinda joined Lola on the sofa ten minutes later, and they both sat curled up against the cushions, watching the mermaids on screen share their adventures across the oceans. The two of them nibbled on a packet of cookies Melinda had found in a cupboard, and before she knew it almost the whole pack was empty, and Lola was dozing off against her shoulder.

She woke her gently, sweeping hair from her face and murmuring her name, not wanting to scare her awake with any sudden movements.

Lola got ready for bed whilst Melinda waited downstairs, and after making sure she had brushed her teeth and washed her face, Melinda pulled out the bedtime story Lola had chosen, and perched herself on the side of her bed.

Before she had opened it however, Lola began to talk.

“Daddy said you’re going to live with us… is that true?”

Melinda tilted her head to the side a little, her hair falling over her shoulder. “If that’s okay with you?”

Lola nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I like you being here now, and Daddy is so excited.”

Melinda smiled at her, wondering what on earth Phil had been doing around the house recently to show his excitement.

He was such an idiot.

She also couldn’t help but realise how far they had come in the last few months. It had less than a year since she had met Phil, and four months since Lola had screamed that she didn’t want her in the house with them at all.

Melinda had spent so long worrying she would never be able to adapt her way of life to accommodate not only a serious relationship, but also technically a step-daughter as well, but here she was, reading Lola a bedtime story, like it was the most natural thing in the world for the two to be doing.

Before Melinda knew what was happening, Lola wrapped her arms around her waist, snuggling her head against her stomach, and closing her eyes. Melinda froze slightly, before gently pulling Lola closer into the hug, enveloping her own arms around the child and pressing a careful kiss to the top of her head. She could still smell the strawberry from her shampoo.

“Love you Melinda.”

The words were quiet, but distinguishable, and an unfamiliar swooping feeling filled Melinda with joy.

“Love you too Lola” she murmured quietly, stroking through her hair absently with one hand, whilst her mind whirred slightly in the dim light of her room.

She knew tonight would go well.

* * *

Phil had thought that Lola asking where babies came from would be the most awkward conversation they would have that year.

He was wrong.

Because the words that came out of his daughter’s mouth next, really were the cherry on the cake.

“Daddy?” she asked, looking at him carefully, her paintbrush paused over the cup of water she had been using to wash it in.

“Yes sweetheart?” he replied absently, scrawling his pen across the page, the blue ink adding a comment to the essay he was currently marking, before looking up to meet her gaze.

“Why don’t I have a brother or sister?”

Oh god.

“Well,” he frowned, placing the pen onto the table and moving the essay to the side. He figured it was best not to lie to her; yes, she was only five, but she was also a lot more mature than some of the children her age, and she deserved to know the truth about why she was an only child. “Your Mommy and I, we wanted you to have one, but because of what happened... we couldn’t.”

“Because the angels took her?”

“Yes.”

Lola nodded in silence, putting the paint-brush down on her paint pallette, and Phil watched her, ready in case at any moment his words overwhelmed her or she became upset. But she simply stared back, seemingly contemplating something as she twisted her now free hands in her lap.

“What about Melinda?”

Phil was suddenly very glad that tonight was the night Melinda had opted to stay at her flat for one of the last times, and organise which of her things were coming with her when she officially moved in with them the next week.

He had a feeling she would probably shoot daggers across the room at him if she were here.

“What about Melinda?” he repeated cautiously, knowing exactly where Lola was heading. He loosened his tie slightly to let himself breathe more.

“Well,” she said, picking up her paintbrush again and dipping it into the water. “She said that if two people love each other then they can have a baby.”

“She did, didn’t she.” He recalled that conversation well; it was probably ingrained in his memory as much as this one would be. She’d probably regret saying that now if she knew her words were being used against them.

Lola nodded, swirling her brush across the red paint before sweeping it onto the page.

“That’s true right?”

“Yes.”

“And you love Melinda?”

“Yes” Phil watched her carefully, debating whether to distract her before she asked what he knew was coming up. He could ask what story she wanted, if she’d like a film on before bed, if she wanted some milk and cookies…

“So does that mean I can have a brother or sister?”

_Damn._ Too late.

“Ermmm...” Phil flailed around inside his head, wondering what the best response would be to such a question. He couldn’t promise her things he had never even spoken to Melinda about, but he also didn’t want to lie to her outright and say she would never get a sibling. He settled on the grey-ish middle group he knew full well he wouldn’t get away with for long. “I don’t know honey, Melinda and I haven’t been together that long.”

“You have!”

“Less than a year” he reasoned, wondering briefly how long a year would feel to a child her age.

“What if you got married?”

Back to reality.

“Then…. maybe” he conceded, smiling weakly as he mentally reprimanded himself. Lola beamed back at him, before Phil rose from his seat and took a calming breath. “Anyway, come on, you have school in the morning; it’s time for bed.”

As Lola put her paintbrush into the water one last time, clambering off the kitchen chair and skipping into the hallway ahead of him, Phil had only one thought on his mind.

Melinda was going to kill him if she found out about this conversation.

* * *

“I can’t believe you’re moving out and abandoning me here, all alone.”

“Don’t try and guilt trip me!”

“Why?” Natasha grinned suddenly, tucking a loose strand of vivid red hair behind her ear. “Is it working?”

Melinda simply glared in response, and turned back to her wardrobe, pulling out another dress she had forgotten she actually owned. She was sorting out which clothes to take with her to Phil’s house when she officially moved, not wanting to clog his house up with things that she didn’t really need.

She held it up.

“You want this?”

“Hell yes!”

The two were in Melinda’s bedroom with Bobbi; Natasha was sitting cross-legged on the bed, occasionally taking possession of items Melinda deemed no longer needed, and Bobbi leaned against the windowsill, sipping coffee and occasionally inputting a comment or two into the conversation.

She was a lot quieter than usual, but she had her reasons.

Bobbi had just split up with Lance once more, their transatlantic relationship struggling after Lance’s boss denied him permission to transfer to the sister company in the States. After several arguments surrounding the future and where they were actually going, the pair had called time on their relationship once more.

Nobody doubted they would get back together soon enough, but for now, Lance had returned to England, and Bobbi was trying her hardest to take her mind off things.

Maria had been invited to join them, in a kind of “end of an era” evening of clearing out, chatting, and eating crappy food - their takeaway pizzas were on their way - but she had declined, having already promised Pepper that she and Steve would be attending Tony’s birthday meal that evening.

So it was just the three of them.

Natasha took the dress from Melinda with a smile, holding it up in front of her and checking out the label, whilst Bobbi shook her head at the two of them.

“You know you’re both like sisters?” she asked, watching amusedly with a raised eyebrow at their easy banter and constant digs at one another.

“Yeah,” Natasha agreed with a smirk, “I mean, Mel’s in denial about it, but I’ve always known.”

“We’re nothing like sisters” Melinda retorted, throwing another garment onto the bed behind her, only for it to be snapped up by Natasha almost instantly. “Nat, you’ll never fit all this in your wardrobe if you keep taking everything!”

“Well as soon as you’ve gone” she answered simply, “I can just fill your wardrobe back up again with my own things.”

“Yeah, not like sisters at all” Bobbi muttered with a grin, popping her now-empty mug back onto Melinda’s dressing table.

Melinda shot her a look over her shoulder, but Bobbi could see she was trying not to smile underneath the glower.

“So you’re not taking furniture with you?” she asked instead, looking around the room at what Melinda actually owned. Half of her things were in boxes, piled up against the wall, but the larger items were still in place.

“No,” she replied, standing up straight and turning to face her, brushing her hair away from her face as she glanced at her own room. “My bed is staying, as is the wardrobe, but I am taking the chair” she added, indicating over to the corner of the room where her grandmother’s old carved chair stood. “I would never get rid of that.”

“Yeah, definitely keep that,” Bobbi smiled, before joining the redhead currently sorting through the pile of things Melinda didn’t want. “So are you keeping this as a bedroom then, Nat?”

“Yes,” Natasha answered, nodding slightly as Melinda resumed her clothing clear out, this time going through her shoes. “I’ll make this a spare room, so if people stay over then they’ll actually have a bed, rather than just being dumping onto the sofa or something.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Melinda asked, frowning a little as she listened to Natasha. “What with paying the rent and bills and stuff on your own?”

Natasha smiled back, and nodded encouragingly. “I’ll be fine Mel, honestly. I’ve got a few more tours coming up, so that’s extra money, and if it comes to it I can always rent your room out.”

“Feels weird doesn’t it?” Bobbi asked Melinda, as she reached back to tie her hair into a ponytail. “That after tomorrow this won’t be your room any more?”

Melinda just nodded. It was weird. After moving out of her mother’s house, she had lived in only two places - her first flat, and this one. She’d lived with Natasha for over five years, and saying goodbye to her was going to be the hardest part.

Natasha seemed to sense her change of mood.

“We’ll still see each other Mel,” she smiled, folding up one of the shirts she had acquired. “All the time, we just won’t live together.”

“I know.”

“Ever lived with a guy before?” Bobbi asked, cocking her head to the side as she eyed the boots Melinda had pulled out from the back of her wardrobe.

She shook her head in response. “No.”

“It’s interesting” she grinned suddenly, despite her mood, and Melinda was wary of what was coming. “You’ll love being with him all the time, and you’ll hate being with him all the time.”

“Great” she rolled her eyes. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“You nervous?”

Melinda stared into her wardrobe, contemplating her answer to Bobbi’s question.

Yes, in a way she was nervous; having never taken such a huge step with anybody before, this was definitely going to be both strange and exciting. But at the same time, she wasn’t nervous at all, looking forward to moving in with them both, and beginning a brand new chapter of her life.

She’d also noticed recently, when at work and struggling with annoying clients or an overload of paperwork, that she found herself counting down until the moment she could leave, and go home. Melinda couldn’t pin-point the exact moment she began to do it, but when she thought of “home” now, she thought of Phil’s house, and not her flat.

Her lack of response seemed to answer her question anyway, and the three friends simply sat in a comfortable silence, until the doorbell rang a few minutes later. Bobbi jumped up from the bed, heading out to collect their delivery, and Natasha followed, grabbing plates and cutlery from the kitchen so they could eat in some kind of civilised manner.

Melinda remained in her room for a moment longer, looking around at how her life was being packed away into cardboard boxes.

She never would have seen this happening a year ago. But it was, and if she was being completely honest with herself, it felt more right than anything else that had ever happened to her, period.

She smiled, before closing the wardrobe doors, and wandered out to rejoin her friends.

* * *

The last Sunday of September arrived, and Melinda found herself awake long before her alarm rang out. She wasn’t even in the mood to do tai-chi, which she knew in itself was evidence of her current unsettled nature.

This was it, the final time she would wake up in her room, in her bed, in her flat. It felt slightly… surreal.

She was happy, of course, but it also felt like the end of an era in some ways.

Clearly Natasha felt the same way, because for the first time in what seemed like forever, Melinda could hear her roommate up and out of bed long before nine am.

The gentle knock on her door a few minutes wasn’t waiting for a reply, and Natasha wandered in anyway, bringing Melinda a mug of peppermint tea, whilst she opted for what looked like hot chocolate.

“You nervous?” Natasha asked quietly, keeping her mug in her hands as she came to sit on the bed next to Melinda.

Melinda nodded. She was, and she didn’t usually get nervous.

“You know, Mel” Natasha murmured, looking down at her cup, and tracing her finger absently along the rim. “It didn’t feel real until today.”

“I know.” Melinda glanced over at the boxes across the room. Her life. Everything she owned - clothes, books, toiletries, things..

Natasha stared at her for a moment, before placing her mug onto one of the bedside tables that adorned her bed. Melinda watched her move, and before she knew it, Natasha had leaned forwards, and wrapped her arms around her.

“I’m really going to miss you” she murmured, sighing a little as Melinda hugged her back.

“I know Nat,” she replied, swallowing hard and breathing carefully. “I’m going to miss you too.”

* * *

Actually moving in was a lot less hassle than she had thought it would be.

Phil came by in his car around noon, with Lola bouncing excitedly on the back seat next to the shark toy she had gotten from the aquarium.

They both helped Melinda pack all the boxes she had into the boot, alongside her chair - the dragon-carved legs of which Lola found completely fascinating - before leaving her along to say goodbye to the flat, and give Natasha one last hug.

Phil was pretty sure Melinda’s eyes were slightly pink when she climbed in next to him, but she didn’t comment on it, so neither did he.

When they got back to the house, the boxes were all lined up in the hallway, and as she had labelled them previously, it was a simple task to work out which ones were going upstairs, and which ones downstairs.

Phil helped Melinda put her clothing on hangers and into the wardrobe, and folded the rest up and placed them into one of the drawers he had already cleared out in preparation.

The bedside table received a snowglobe, and Phil smiled at it as the memories of their first dates came flooding back to him.

As she wandered out from his - no, their - en-suite bathroom, having added her toothbrush, shampoo and body wash to his shelves, Phil stole a kiss, brushing his fingers through her hair as he felt her smiling against him.

She moved onto the next box.

The living-room gained new books, the rack by the television acquired new films.

Her chair found a place to stand in the corner of the bedroom, where she could see it each day.

Melinda gradually emptied each part of her life into the house, including one of the fluffy cushions from the sofa that she and Nat had both picked out one time in Ikea. They had spent almost four hours in there, and left with so much crap that they had to go back again to collect the rest. Now they had a cushion each.

Lola skipped excitedly around the house, occasionally asking Melinda what things were and why she had them, but otherwise seemingly very happy with the new member of their household.

She tired after a while, and sat herself down in her bedroom, playing with her toys.

When the final box was empty, and the last box of fruit tea had settled in the kitchen cupboard, Phil smiled, looking around the room, before back to Melinda.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, stepping forwards and linking their fingers together. He knew she was normally pretty quiet anyway, but for the last hour, whilst he had added a few baking books onto the shelf alongside his cooking guides, she had been even more so.

She nodded, smiling slightly and in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. “It just feels a little... strange.”

“Good strange?” he asked, unlinking his hands from hers, and placing them around her hips instead, pulling her slowly closer. “Or bad strange?”

She leaned up onto her tip toes, and pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. “Good strange, Phil, good strange.”

He smiled once more in response, before moving his hands from her hips, so they loosely linked around her lower back. Melinda wrapped her own around his neck, clasping them together lightly as the two stood together.

“Welcome home Mel” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

Melinda smiled against him, and rested her cheek on his chest, feeling the gentle rhythm of him breathing, and taking comfort from each motion.

Home.

She was home.

 


	14. October

**October**

October brought rain back into their lives, and the chill of wind outside became more and more frequent as Autumn progressed.

It had been officially one week since Melinda moved in with Phil and Lola, and despite her initial worries about things not feeling right, or being homesick, she had to admit, everything was pretty much perfect.

She rolled over onto her side, dragging her deep purple silk sheets with her - she had managed to sneak them onto the bed when Phil was out one evening - and came face to face with… an empty pillow.

How he’d managed to get up without waking her was a mystery, because ninety percent of the time, she either awoke before him, or he woke her when he rose.

She tilted her head slightly to glance at the time on the alarm clock by his bed, and realised it was still ten minutes until she had to be up, but the little symbol to signify the alarm being on, was not there.

Listening across the house, she could hear the sounds of somebody in the kitchen, soft whistling alongside the occasional clatter of pans, and the whir of the kettle as it boiled up water.

She smiled and closed her eyes once more, enjoying the final moments of post-sleep comfort before life would call her from the warmth of bed.

* * *

 

Phil pottered around the kitchen in his Captain America pyjamas, his bare feet slightly cold against the stone tiles.

He found himself humming along to the radio as he moved, filling the kettle with boiling water from the tap, and then setting it down to heat.

Turning to the cupboard, he reached up, and pulled out a bag of flour, making sure not to drop the bag as he had done in the past - that had been eventful - before he pulled out the scales after it, and measured out the required amount. When he returned the flour back to the cupboard, he grabbed two eggs from the fridge, cracking them both into a jug and disposing of the shells in the bin. Some milk followed the eggs, and with the addition of the sieved in flour, Phil found a whisk in the draw beside him, and after pulling it out, began to mix the ingredients together, the creamy batter coming together quickly and smoothly.

He hadn’t heard Melinda come downstairs, but then again, she was like a super spy with the silence of her movements.

It was only when he turned to throw the whisk into the sink that he noticed her leaning against the doorframe watching him, her hair slightly mussed up from sleeping on it all night, and he smiled.

“How long have you been stood there?”

“Not long” she replied, wandering into the room to stand beside him.

Phil reached out, pulling her gently into his arms, and burying his face in her hair. He could feel her hands relocate to his hips, the fabric of his shirt clutched gently in her fingers, and he smiled again.

He was smiling so much recently.

“So,” she murmured, breathing deeply and snuggling closer into his arms. “What are you up this early for?”

He gestured at the jug of creamy liquid on the side of the kitchen unit. “I’m making pancakes,” he replied happily, before brushing his lips against her forehead. “Happy Birthday Mel.”

His words lingered in the air around them, and when she opened her eyes once more, looking up to him, she found Phil watching her with adoration in his gaze.

She hummed in response, and he gently stroked a thumb against her cheek, before the light touch of his breath caressed her temple. She smiled to herself as his lips brushed the skin above her left eye again, and she absently reached her hands back from his hips, tracing her fingertips across his chest instead, and linking her arms around his neck.

“Thank you.”

They simply stood together for a while, listening to the slow lyrics of the song currently playing on the radio in the corner, and only when the sound of footsteps clambering down the stairs did they break apart again.

“Happy Birthday Melinda!”

The hurricane that was Lola skipped into the kitchen, jumping up and down on the spot with a grin, and waving the present she had hold of around wildly, trails of pink and purple ribbon flowing behind it.

“Thank you Lola,” Melinda smiled, brushing a hand through her hair absently, before taking the gift she was being handed.

“I hope you like it!”

“You want me to open it now?” she asked, watching from the corner of her eye as Phil moved across the room to pull a carton of orange juice out of the fridge.

Lola nodded at her, so Melinda began to unwrap the gift, being careful not to tear straight through the paper and ruin Lola’s hard work at wrapping - it was obvious she had tried to do it herself, but Melinda smiled none-the-less.

The smile turned into a very well restrained roll of the eyes when she pulled the contents out.

“Are they -”

“Mulan pjs!” Lola exclaimed excitedly, practically beaming from ear to ear as Melinda held up the Mushu patterned bottoms in front of her. “You love Mulan!”

“I do” she agreed, shaking her head a little at the giant picture of the princess emblazoned on the t-shirt part. “Thank you so much Lola” she added, cautiously stepping forward to hug the young girl. Lola happily wrapped her arms around her, and Phil watched them with a bigger smile than he’d already been wearing.

“You’re welcome,” Lola replied, before pulling back and turning to her dad. “Are we having pancakes this morning because it’s Melinda’s birthday!?”

“Yes,” he replied with a nod, checking the time on the oven clock before turning back to them both. “You go get your school clothes on, and they will be ready in ten minutes, okay?”

Recently, Phil had been gradually introducing Lola to the idea of learning the concepts of time periods; he knew she wouldn’t really be able to pick it up properly for another year or two, but her class had covered the basics of hours and minutes in school, and he was happy to continue that at home with her.

Lola grinned happily, before dancing from the room, and Phil and Melinda listened as she catapulted herself up the stairs again, singing what sounded suspiciously like the Mulan soundtrack.

“I don’t know where she gets the energy from” Phil muttered fondly, turning to a cupboard and pulling out a large frying pan, placing it onto the hob in front of him. “I swear I need at least three cups of coffee to even function at this time of the morning.”

“You should try tai-chi” Melinda told him, for what was probably the tenth time, as she folded up the pyjamas and placed them onto a spare counter beside her, before doing the same with the paper. “I keep telling you it will clear your mind and wake you up.”

“And when was the last time you actually got up to do tai-chi?” he shot back at her, pouring the first lot of batter into the pan, the room filling with the sound and scent of pancakes cooking.

Melinda raised her eyebrows, swatting playfully at his arm with the back of her hand. “It’s not my fault someone keeps distracting me.”

“It is your fault, you’re very distracting.”

She had no response to that, so he simply grinned again, before leaning over and pressing a kiss against her lips.

“What time do you finish today?”

“Five” she replied, touching a hand to his cheek momentarily, before reaching up to the top cupboard and pulling out a box of jasmine tea. It wasn’t the proper stuff, like she would find in her mother’s kitchen cupboard - that could take several hours to infuse properly - but it was a good substitute.

“Okay, don’t be late home.”

She looked at him curiously, and he shrugged. “You just don’t want to be late tonight, that’s all,” he grinned, loving the adorable way she frowned.

She hmmm-ed in response, before pouring boiling water into two mugs, a slightly anxious expression on her face.

“And I’m going to give you my presents tonight too… beforehand.”

“Before what?”

“I know you hate being surprised, but it’s your birthday.” He flipped the first pancake over in the pan, listening to the slight sizzle as the raw mixture touched the hot plate. “It’s nothing bad, I promise.”

He looked at her, pleading silently to trust him, and she swallowed, before nodding, pouring milk into his coffee and stirring it slowly, tapping the spoon against the edge of the mug.

“Okay. I’ll be home before six.”

* * *

 

She spent the whole day wondering what on earth he had planned. She hoped it wasn’t something extravagant; not only did she hate being surprised, but Melinda also really disliked being the centre of attention.

She asked Maria, over their lunch date in the staff room, if she had any idea what he was up to, but she simply shook her head.

“Nope, sorry Mel” she told her, munching happily on her panini as she held a hand gently against her growing belly. “I don’t know what he’s planned, but I’m sure it’ll be nice.”

Melinda watched her, for any trace she might have been lying, but found nothing. She sighed.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

 

“Happy Birthday,” Phil murmured quietly, once Melinda had returned home that evening.

Lola was in the kitchen, working hard on a painting she had to do for school. It wasn’t often she was assigned homework, being at such a young age, but her teacher had asked all students to paint a picture of their family. She wouldn’t let Phil see what she was painting, and shooed him away when he tried to look over her shoulder.

So Phil took the opportunity to pull Melinda upstairs with him, closing the bedroom door behind them both and leading her to sit down on the bed.

She watched him warily as he opened the wardrobe door, pulling out a carefully wrapped gift box, in silver paper with a large purple bow and ribbon upon the top.

“For you,” he sat down on the bed next to her, the mattress dipping slightly to accommodate him.

“Thank you,” she replied quietly, taking the box with a smile, and leaning over to place a gentle kiss onto his cheek.

“I really hope you like them,” he mumbled under his breath, as she peeled back the paper and lifted the lid from the box. Sitting in front of her, folded up perfectly, was a brand new black leather jacket, complete with silver zips, and real pockets either side.

“Oh, Phil!”

She pulled the jacket from the box that was resting on her knees, and held it up to view properly.

It was gorgeous, proper leather, and from the look of it, was almost identical to her old one which had ended up covered in bright pink paint only a few weeks earlier, when Lola had knocked over a bottle of the liquid she had been using to create something for school.

Despite her convincing a slightly distraught Lola that it was okay, that accidents happened, and it was only a jacket, the fact it had been ruined had admittedly left Melinda a little saddened. But this one…

“Phil this must have cost you –“

“The price doesn’t matter,” he said determinedly. “You’re worth it.”

She smiled at him, watching the slight pink blush creep around the back of his neck.

Looking down, she could see something else wrapped within the tissue paper in the box, and she frowned curiously, placing the jacket onto the bed beside her.

Reaching into the box, she pulled out a deep purple dress, the colour to match their sheets, covered in lace, with delicate sleeved arms.

“Phil…” she murmured, holding it up in front of her with wide eyes.

“You could wear it tonight,” he said softly, watching her reaction with happiness. “The three of us, plus Maria and Steve, your mother, and mine, are all going to that new restaurant in town.”

“Odin’s? The five star one?” she asked, with wide eyes. Melinda had heard a lot about it, after it opened only a couple of weeks previously. Rumour had it, the chef had cooked for Royalty, and he was renowned for his work worldwide.

She was also impressed with how well Maria had lied earlier, about not knowing anything.

Phil nodded in response. “I called when it first opened to book a table. They said we can have it from eight pm onwards.”

“Oh, Phil… that’s going to cost a fortune too.”

“So?” he grinned, shrugging the best he could from lying on one elbow. “You took me to New York - this is the least I can do, I’m just sorry it’s not more.”

“It’s perfect.”

Feeling slightly overwhelmed by everything, she placed the dress on top of the jacket, before reaching out and pulling him towards her. She caressed his lips with her own as he wound his arms around her waist.

“I love you so much,” she murmured in between kisses. “Thank you.”

* * *

 

“So Mel, you’re not planning to move back in any time soon, are you?”

Natasha watched Melinda with a small smile, her head tilted slightly in question as she swirled the contents of her mojito around, ice-cubes clattering against the sides of the glass.

It was mid October now, and as it had been almost a fortnight since they had seen each other, Natasha had dragged Melinda out to one of her favourite bars. The two sat on a pair of high stools with matching drinks, catching up on what had happened in their respective lives recently.

“Nooo...” she replied slowly, watching Natasha over the top of her own glass.

“Okay good,” she grinned, placing her drink onto the table in front of them. “I kind of have some news.”

Melinda stared at Natasha, wondering what on earth her friend was going to say. Various suggestions filled her head, each of them getting slightly worse than the last one.

“I have a new room-mate!”

“Seriously?” Her eyebrows rose, but it was relief she actually felt, until she frowned again.  “I thought you said you would be okay with the rent on your own?”

“I am, don’t worry,” Natasha soothed, waving a hand dismissively. “But I saw this advert at the hospital on one of those notice boards -”

“- Why were you at hospital?”

“I was with Clint. Long story.” She grinned again, and Melinda wasn’t sure she really wanted to know the reason. “Anyway, there was an advert; this nurse was looking for a place to stay urgently, so I called her and said I had a free room.”

“So, who is she?” Melinda asked, knowing it was just like Natasha to jump into something without really thinking it through much. “What’s she like?”

Natasha glanced up and indicated over to the barman, who nodded, setting about getting them another round in.

“Sharon,” she replied with a smile, turning back to Melinda. “She’s nice. She’s a nurse at the hospital downtown. She’s coming round to drop some stuff off next weekend, because she can’t get out of her current lease right away.”

“You’ve met her then?”

“Yeah, just twice, but she seems friendly enough. And I mean, I’m only there half the time as it is, and she works shifts, so we might not see each other every day anyway.”

“Why’s she moving?” Melinda asked, picking up her glass to finish it off before her new one arrived.

“Some guy got shot in the apartment next to her, so she wants out of that building.”

Melinda choked on the last dregs of her drink.

“He… what happened?!”

“I don’t know, dispute over something,” she shook her head, seemingly not overly concerned by this idea, and smiled at the barman in thanks as he placed two new mojitos in front of them. “So I told her our building was safe, and she came round to look, liked it, and is moving in next month.”

“That’s great” she replied honestly; she knew how sociable Natasha was, so having a new room-mate would probably be a really good thing.

Melinda caught a flash of gold around Natasha’s neck as she moved, and she peered closer, wondering what it was; Natasha wasn’t usually the jewellery type.

“Are you staring at my boobs?” she asked suddenly, and Melinda shot her gaze back up, realising it had probably looked like she was doing exactly that. She shook her head with a slightly abashed laugh.

“No, sorry, I was looking at your necklace.”

To her surprise, Natasha smiled softly, her eyes lighting up, and she lifted her hand to touch the pendant almost gently. “Clint bought it for me.”

“What is it?”

“It’s an arrow, you know, because he does archery and stuff?”

She nodded, and smirked at Natasha’s expression. She was almost lost in her own little world.

“So you two are still good?” She and Phil had known they would get along, but they had never thought their little matchmaking session would have proved to be so successful after all this time.

“We’re good” she nodded, taking a sip of her new drink. “Although he’s away at the moment.”

“Where is he?”

Natasha waved a hand, and almost pouted. “He’s on some trip with the athletics club from the school. Some sort of event for under sixteens. He’s been gone all week.”

“Miss him?” Melinda teased, never having seen her friend this serious about a guy before.

“Shut up Mel,” Natasha grinned, but Melinda knew full well what her answer would have been.

She was so in love.

* * *

 

As the end of October neared, Lola grew more and more excited about Halloween.

The previous years, she had been too young to really understand what the evening was about, but since she’d started school, she had become much more interested in it.

Phil took Lola to the local farm one evening after school, and the two of them wandered hand in hand around the field, choosing from a selection of pumpkins to take home with them. Lola decided she wanted the largest one in the allotment, naturally, but Phil had to spend almost twenty minutes attempting to reason with her to choose one smaller; it wouldn’t have fit in the car anyway, and there was no way he could have carried it into their house.

Eventually she compromised on three smaller pumpkins - one for each of them to carve, she argued - and Phil relented, carrying two of them to the car whilst Lola carried the third. He kept a close eye on her, knowing how heavy it was, but she didn’t complain once.

The next evening, Friday the 30th, would usually have been Phil and Melinda’s date night. However they opted to stay in, knowing they would be out the next evening, and the three of them spent the night carving pumpkins, and decorating the house with Halloween novelties.

The front door was covered in fake spiderwebs, and ghost confetti was sprinkled over the surfaces. It was completely over the top, but Lola adored it.

As the three of them gathered around the kitchen table, Phil cut the top off the pumpkins, before letting Lola use the largest spoon she could find to scrape out the insides, her occasional squeal at how slimy the filling of a pumpkin was making him laugh every time she managed to get it onto her hands.

He handed Lola a sharpie, and let her draw expressions onto her pumpkin, before cutting the eyes and teeth out himself; he wasn’t going to let her risk slicing her fingers off in the process. She didn’t mind though, and happily scooped out Melinda’s pumpkin with her whilst she waited for her own to be completed.

When all three were done, they were placed onto the living room table with small candles inside, ready to be lit the following night.

* * *

 

The next morning, Lola insisted upon dressing in her costume as soon as she woke, and so with the air of an Asgardian villain, she spent the entire day wandering around the house disguised as Loki, complete with horned helmet, and a staff Melinda had helped her to make out of kitchen foil painted gold.

Phil joined in with his daughter’s joy, and paraded around the house as Captain America once more, proudly puffing out his chest to emphasise his muscled suit, and addressing Melinda as “Ma’am” all day.

_Idiot_ , she thought fondly, shaking her head with a small smile.

She refused to dress up right away, knowing full well what costume Lola had convinced her to wear.

Melinda spent the rest of the afternoon baking with Lola, the two creating batches of dark chocolate cupcakes, covered in bright orange buttercream and sugarpaste chocolate bats, plus cookies in the shape of ghosts and pumpkins, using new cutters they had found in the supermarket when  buying groceries the previous week.

For the first time, Phil had agreed to take Lola treat-or-treating along their street, and as the sun set across their road, and the sky turned almost blood red, he decided it was time to leave.

Lola stood waiting at the front door, pumpkin sweet-pot in hand, and bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet in excitement. Phil grabbed his shield from the kitchen table, and headed into the hall to join her, before calling up the stairs to Melinda, to check if she was ready.

* * *

 

“I cannot believe I’m going out like this” Melinda muttered to her reflection, straightening down her skirt as she took in her appearance in the mirror once more. Hair coiffed, and lips red, she adjusted the brown tie around her neck slightly, before sighing.

Natasha would die laughing if she could see her now.

It was definitely different to the previous years’ costume, where she had simply thrown on some black clothes and painted cat whiskers on her face.

With one last look at herself, she wandered from the room, heading down the stairs with a resigned expression on her face.

Lola grinned up at her in happiness, and Phil smiled, bowing slightly before offering her his arm.

“Agent Carter, shall we go?”

* * *

 

Later that evening, after they had returned from what resulted in being a very successful evening of trick-or-treating - Phil had never seen so many sweets, and was desperately trying to convince Lola she couldn’t eat them all at once - Anne arrived at their house, around eight pm.

She raised an eyebrow at her son’s choice of costume, but complimented Melinda’s, wondering how Phil had managed to convince her to wear it. When she confessed it had been Lola’s idea, Phil had grinned with pride, babbling on about how his daughter clearly had excellent taste when it came to dressing up.

After saying goodnight to Phil and Melinda, Lola grabbed her backpack, and left with Anne. They were going back to her house, so that Phil and Melinda were free to return to the bar they had met in, exactly one year ago.

It was like their anniversary, in a weird way.

Melinda had gone to shower before they went out, wanting to wash away the make-up she had worn to pretend to be Agent Carter, and so Phil had let her take first shower, as he tidied the house slightly, and blowing out the candles the were lighting up the pumpkins.

Ten minutes later, Phil opened the bedroom door to begin getting ready himself, and he froze, taking in the sight before him.

Melinda was stood in the middle of the room, clearly half dressed, her hair still wet down her back, and she was wearing nothing but lingerie.

No,  _sexy_  lingerie.

A matching set of bra and panties, cream, with lace and black satin bows and silk ribbons.

Nothing like he had ever seen her wear before; he didn’t even know she owned them, and he’d helped her unpack when she moved in.

Phil could do nothing but stare, letting his gaze travel down her legs and back up, before swallowing.

She turned to face him, and smirked at his expression.

He took a few steps towards her, before wrapping his hands around her waist, and gently tugging her towards him.

“Are you wearing these under your dress tonight?” he murmured, lips touching the side of her neck and sending shivers through her skin. She just nodded against him, smiling smugly, and he groaned lightly.

This was going to be fun.

* * *

 

“See if I can avoid tipping a tray of drinks onto you this year,” Phil muttered, grinning at her as they walked through the doorway, and into the bar.

“If you hadn’t,” she replied simply, leading them both over to a free table, “then we might not have got together.”

“True. Never knew destroying someone’s outfit was a pick-up method.”

“It isn’t” she assured him with a smirk, waving at the doorway as she saw Maria and Steve enter the premises only moments after they had done. The doorman gave Maria a slightly odd look as she wandered inside with her - now rather large - baby bump, but let them pass none-the-less.  

Twenty minutes later, and the four of them were sat in a booth, black velvet seating surrounding the glass table, the only sign of Halloween decorations this year being the silver spiderweb confetti sprinkled on the table.

The four of them had cocktails in front of them, two alcoholic ones for Phil and Melinda, and two non-alcoholic for Steve and Maria.

“The baby is kicking” Maria announced suddenly, eyes wide with wonder as she looked at Steve. He grinned back, and placed a hand over her stomach, letting her adjust its position to where the baby’s foot was.

“Does it kick often?” Melinda asked, smiling at the two of them as she absently snacked on the strawberry that had been floating in her drink.

“Yes,” Steve replied, glancing back up to her and Phil. “But each time is still amazing, especially when you can feel it so strong… have you not felt it?”

Melinda shook her head. The last time she had been near Maria when the baby had kicked, they had been in her office discussing how fast the previous year had gone, and in all honesty the idea had freaked her out a little bit.

“Here, Mel” Maria said, reaching for her friend’s hand, and placing it on her bump without giving her a choice. She waited, and watched Melinda’s reaction as she felt the baby kicking again.

“No way!”

“Cool right?”

Melinda laughed in wonder, holding her hand against the fabric of Maria’s shirt, and feeling a tiny foot pushing itself against the inside of her stomach. “That’s surreal.”

Phil grinned at her, before leaning over to join his hand with hers.

“My little niece or nephew” he murmured, leaning his chin against Melinda’s shoulder. “You guys have any feeling about whether it’s a boy or girl?”

“Maria thinks it’s a girl” Steve replied, removing his hand from her stomach and taking a swig from his glass. “I honestly am not sure.”

“It just…” Maria shrugged, Phil and Melinda both removing their own hands as the baby had stopped kicking. “I can’t explain it. It feels like the baby will be a girl.”

“Mother’s instinct?” Melinda noted, and Maria nodded.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“I’ll get us another round in,” Steve announced, pressing a kiss to his wife’s cheek, before rising from the table, and turning back to face them all. “Same again?”

They all nodded, and he headed off across the bar, maneuvering his way through the crowds of people that were gathered all around; some were dressed in Halloween costumes, but as it wasn’t a themed night this year, the rest were, like their little group, just dressed normally.

“Is that Pepper?” Maria asked suddenly, leaning up in her seat and staring towards the bar. Melinda and Phil both turned to where she was looking, and sure enough, found Steve talking away with Tony Stark, Pepper stood by his side.

Pepper, seemingly sensing she was being watched, saw them looking and waved, and Maria rose from her own seat in a less than graceful manner, tugging down her shirt as it tried to rise up around her bump..

“I’m going to go over if that’s okay? I need to stand up for a bit anyway.”

“No problem,” Phil nodded, “See you in a bit.”

They watched her wander across the bar, before Phil turned back to Melinda, a glint in his eyes.

“So, now that we’re alone… you want to tell me why you’re wearing the sexiest underwear I have ever seen?”

“Well,” she grinned, leaning closer into his side, her back pressing up against his chest just a little. “It has been a year since we met, and I just thought it would be… nice.”

She wasn’t going to add how it had been a conversation with Natasha about how they had known each other a year, and how to celebrate, that had led to her actually going out to buy the set. Nor was she going to mention how nervous she had felt when he first saw it, worrying he would think it over the top, or pointless.

“Nice would be an understatement” he murmured, breathing his words into her hair, and she felt herself relax against him, his hand coming up to rest on her hip, thumb tracing circles into the fabric below her waist.

Melinda turned her head slightly, and nuzzled against his neck, forgetting they were in the middle of a crowded bar surrounded by people.

How strong were those cocktails??

“Is it socially acceptable to leave yet?” she asked, finding her voice huskier than she realised, and covering her mouth with her hand.

Phil laughed softly, touching his nose to hers momentarily, before taking her hand away from her mouth. “No, we should probably wait another hour maybe.”

She nodded, watching his eyes as he stared back at her, the darkened gaze he had her under doing things to her it probably shouldn’t.

She swallowed. Melinda wasn’t one for public displays of affection, but she was pretty close to throwing that opinion out of the window and just clambering into his lap in the middle of the bar.

Phil seemed to sense her mood too, and he held her close, burning patterns into her skin with his fingertips.

When Maria and Steve returned to their table some time later, Pepper and Tony accompanying them with a tray of tequila shots that Maria was eyeing wistfully, Melinda knew it would be longer than an hour before they could escape.

Phil's hand resting on her bare thigh was not helping.

* * *

 

The moment the front door was closed behind them, Melinda had Phil pressed back up against it, her clutch bag dropping to the floor without a second thought as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Phil pulled her close, his hands gripping the dip of her waist tightly, and held her against him, finally lavishing the attention to her lips he had been dying to do all night.

Teeth nipped and nails scratched, and Melinda was vaguely aware the two of them hadn’t had a night like this, filled with such intense passion and desire and need, since… well, for a while anyway.

Definitely time to rectify that.

She could feel his hands dropping lower, until he ran them under the hem of her dress, skimming up her thighs as she shivered under his touch.

“We need… move… stairs” Phil mumbled incoherently, preoccupied with gently biting the skin along her jugular as she moaned against him, pushing him impossibly closer to the door. He could feel the letterbox digging into his thighs, but he removed that thought from his mind quickly as he felt her hands against his chest, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

Melinda shook her head, breathing heavily as his mouth dropped down to the dip between her breasts. “Now, right here… Phil I -”

She didn’t finish her sentence, his lips cutting her words off before they had left her throat.

But then again, Phil reasoned, as he rested their foreheads together, watching with dark eyes as she tore a few buttons impatiently from his shirt, she didn’t need to finish.

He flipped them around, picking her up as they went, before leaning her back against the door. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her dress riding up around her hips as they pressed against each other, and Phil this time felt the slight stab in his back as one of her stilettos dug into his spine.

It would be worth the pain.


	15. November

 

**November**

Phil was sat at the kitchen table, marking a load of books for his first year class, when he heard the sound of footsteps padding down the stairs.

He knew Melinda was already in the front room, so it must have been Lola, and his thoughts were confirmed when she stopped in the kitchen doorway, and spoke to him.

“Daddy,” she mumbled, sucking her thumb and staring at him with a sad expression on her face.

“What’s up sweetheart?”

When she didn’t reply, Phil glanced up from the books to look at her properly, and immediately placed his pen back onto the table, rising from his seat and crouching down beside her, knowing that something wasn’t quite right.

She was pale, almost grey, and from the way her fringe was stuck to her forehead he could tell she was sweaty. Lola swayed a little in front of him, and he reached out to hold her steady, lifting a hand to feel her temple.

He frowned.

“I think you’ve got a temperature, Lo” he told her softly, sighing before picking her up, letting her rest her head against his shoulder. He carried her through into the living room with him, and sat her on his lap as he lowered himself onto the sofa.

Melinda was sat on the other end of it, and she grabbed the tv remote, turning the volume of her programme right down, before looking at them both anxiously.

“What’s up?” she asked, watching in concern as Lola flopped against her dad, unable to find the strength to sit up properly on her own.

“I’m pretty sure she’s got a temperature,” Phil muttered, frowning before checking her forehead again. “Lo, do you feel unwell?”

“Sick” she mumbled, before pushing her face against his shoulder and letting out a small sob.

“I’ll go get a bucket” Melinda told him quietly, standing from the sofa and stretching her legs. “You want me to get a blanket or something too?”

Phil shook his head, stroking his daughter’s hair and holding her close whilst she cried almost silently against his shirt. “No, thank you... I think I’ll put her straight into bed.”

With that he stood up once more, lifting Lola up with him. She weakly wrapped both arms around his neck, and he smiled sadly at Melinda as he passed her, before carrying his daughter up the stairs.

He tucked her into bed, where she lay quietly, occasionally snuffling, and sometimes whimpering. Phil sat next to her, talking quietly about dragons and mermaids and whatever else he could think of to try and take her mind off things.

When Melinda brought a bucket upstairs, knocking softly on the door before entering, she accompanied it with a bottle of calpol, suggesting it might reduce the fever, if she could keep it down...

Lola spent the next few days clammy and pale, occasionally throwing up, and generally feeling miserable. Phil fussed over her more than Melinda had ever seen him do before, but she watched with a smile; it was lovely to see him being such a wonderful father.  

After a trip to the doctors, Lola was diagnosed with the same sickness bug that had been going round her class at school.

She spent the next couple of days feeling sorry for herself, and Phil took her soup – which she didn’t drink – and he read to her, quietly speaking the words he knew by heart from her favourite books as she lay curled up in their bed.

He’d let her sleep in their room with them for a few nights, because her fever kept waking her up disorientated and confused; when he put the idea to her, Melinda had agreed she was probably better off staying with them during that time.

On the Monday morning, three days after her doctor’s visit, Lola was still too poorly to attend school, and Phil was taking his class on a trip so was unable to stay back and care for her.

Melinda took the day off work instead, and remained at home with her, stroking her forehead and softly talking to her as she whimpered in confusion. The medicine prescribed helped lower her fever, but not by much, and as Melinda let her watch television with her on the sofa, Lola snuggled up under her duvet, leaning against Melinda as they sat through an animated series about - ironically - hospitals.

Melinda suggested it was probably not been the best thing to have chosen when she was ill, the animated people wandering through wards and bandaging up injuries, but Lola seemed to like it.

She finally managed to fall asleep later that afternoon, on top of Melinda, having at some point clambered into her lap, and Melinda didn’t have the heart to wake her up again just to put her into bed.

She simply dragged Lola’s quilt across the sofa, and covered both of them up with it, before changing channels, flicking through to find something - anything - that would hold her interest for a while. She felt her eyelids drooping after a while, and decided a nap wouldn’t be such a bad thing...

Phil came home that night to find them both sound asleep on the sofa still, curled up together under Lola’s duvet.

If he took a photograph to show them later, he kept it quiet.

* * *

 

When Phil threw up four days later, Lola was inexplicably a lot more excited than he was.

Having recovered from her own bug, she appeared to have passed it on to him, and whilst Phil was glad his daughter was finally better, he was less than impressed that he had managed to catch it himself.

Lola got to pretend to be nurse, like she’d seen in the show Melinda had watched with her, and despite Phil insisting he was fine - he wasn’t - Lola was adamant she had to check his temperature and listen to his heartbeat, multiple times per day. Phil allowed her to, grudgingly, and Lola continued telling him to “get some rest” and “take your medicine.”

Melinda smirked, all too happy to encourage Lola’s actions, but when Phil caught her watching them she scurried off to cook his daughter some tea.

Phil came down the stairs an hour later, and stood in the kitchen doorway, watching them sat eating chicken and rice together, and smiled. Despite the fact he was throwing up each day, Lola loved getting to look after him, and it gave Melinda and her and chance to spend more time together, alone.

* * *

 

On the fourth morning of his sickness bout, Phil awoke early, before their alarm, and after sitting up and realising he finally felt slightly better, wondered what it had been that had dragged him into consciousness.

The sound of coughing from the bathroom gave him all he needed to know, and he rolled over, finding Melinda’s spot in the bed empty.

Clearly it was her turn.

When the bathroom door opened, a very pale Melinda wandered out, climbing back into bed, still nauseous and quietly cursing Lola for making her sick. She knew it wasn’t her fault really, but as she’d been ill first, it was technically her fault for bringing it into the house.

Phil pulled her against him and held her, feeling her pulse raising and pressing kisses along her temple.

“You’ll be okay,” he murmured softly, stroking her hair from her face as she looked up at him with tired eyes. “It feels awful, but it’s just a few days.”

“I don’t feel _ill_  ill, though.” she complained quietly, sighing as she shivered a little under the sheets. “I just don’t feel  _right_.”

“Maybe your immune system is stronger than ours,” he suggested, resting their foreheads together. “You’re probably fighting it off better than us.”

She grunted something incomprehensible in response, and rolled over, burying her face into the pillow as his alarm began to go off, signalling it being time to start getting both himself and Lola ready for their respective schools.

It looked like she’d be the one missing work today.

* * *

 

Phil exited the classroom with a smile on his face.

He’d just been to Lola’s first ever Parent’s Evening.

Because she was still so young, it had really been more of a casual chat about how she was settling into the routine of school, and what kind of topics they had been covering, alongside her teacher’s initial thoughts about her development over the past couple of months.

Her teacher, Miss Hand - who coincidentally had been a guest at Maria’s wedding earlier in the year - had been thrilled with Lola, and had praised not only her eagerness to learn new things, but also her friendliness towards the other children in her class, always sharing things with fellow pupils, and talking to them politely, and never answering back if she didn’t get her way with something.

It had been the latter few things that Phil had always had slight worries about. Seeing as she had been raised mainly among adults, with no other children to socialise with before she began playgroup and swimming the year before, he’d had concerns that Lola may not have known how to interact with other children properly. But his worries had been brushed aside as Miss Hand presented her glowing report, and he knew he would have to tell Lola just how proud of her he was, as soon as he returned home.

Phil strolled through the corridors of his daughter’s school, coming to a stop just after he entered the assembly hall, a display board of colourful work catching his eye on the wall beside him. The border along the top read “Family Paintings; Class 1A”, and he knew that was Lola’s class. With a flash, he remembered her working on her own entry a few weeks before; she hadn’t let him see it whilst she was painting it, and then had taken it into school before he’d had the chance once it was finished.

Curiosity getting the better of him, his eyes skimmed across all the pieces of work on the board, before they came to rest on an image at the top right. The nameplate below read “Lola Coulson”, and as he looked at her artwork, Phil felt a strange feeling of both pride and sorrow, all mixed into one.

There was a strip of blue across the top of the page, representing sky, and green along the bottom, which he assumed was grass. Stood painted upon it, were three figures.

There was a man in the middle, whom he recognised immediately as himself, wearing glasses, a white tee-shirt, and jeans, and smiling a large cheesy grin.

To the left of him, holding his hand, was a little girl, wild caramel coloured hair flowing around her head, and a pink dress with white polkadots onto it covering her body. She of course was meant to be Lola - he even recognised the dress as one his mother had bought her for her birthday.

On the other side of the painting of himself, was a lady, with black hair and black clothes, drawn slightly shorter than himself, but taller than Lola. Lola had painted her holding Phil’s hand on one side, and a cupcake in the other, and he grinned - Melinda.

She’d be so happy to know Lola considered her part of her family.

But it was the image above the three of them, just below the strip of blue sky, that sent a small punch into his stomach.

It was unmistakably meant to be the figure of an angel, with gold wings, a halo, and blonde hair, smiling out of the page as she looked over the other residents below her.

Audrey.

He swallowed.

“She’s very artistic,” a voice announced from behind him, making Phil almost jump as he turned to see who was there. Miss Hand smiled apologetically to have startled him, before looking again at the picture Lola had painted. “Every time we get the paints out, she is always so engrossed in what she is doing.”

Phil nodded, glad to at least know who had followed him out of the corridor. “She’s exactly the same at home. It’s either painting, playing with toy dragons, or baking with Mel.”

Miss Hand touched the picture carefully with a manicured finger, tapping against the female character. “I assume this is Mel then?”

He nodded again, pulling his phone out of his pocket, and folding his arms in front of him. “Yeah, she’s my… girlfriend. Lola adores her.”

“She talks about her a lot,” Miss Hand admitted, and Phil turned to face her, curiosity burning.

“What kind of things does she say?”

She smiled, and tucked a stray pink strand behind her ear. “All sorts really. She was telling the class last week about how you both took her trick-or-treating on Halloween, and she managed to convince her to dress as Agent Carter, from the Captain America comics?”

Phil grinned, and she continued.

“And I overheard her telling a friend the other day how Melinda buys her cutters so they can make biscuits together, which apparently she loves to do.”

He made a mental note to tell Melinda that, as well as see if she remembered Miss Hand from Maria’s hen party and wedding, when he returned home that evening.

“It’s good to see a child so well adjusted,” she continued quietly, her tone slipping into one more saddened as she glanced back to the picture, her gaze resting on the angel Lola had drawn above them all. “It must’ve be hard, dealing with everything you both had thrown at you.”

Phil looked sideways at her, wondering how much of her life story Lola had actually confessed to her teacher, but Miss Hand simply shook her head placatingly.

“Oh don’t worry,” she held her hands up in front of her, and pressed her lips together, shaking her head. “I don’t know any details if that’s what you’re worried about. I just asked about her painting during class, and she told me the angel was her mom.”

Phil nodded, not wanting to go into too much detail, and turned back to the paintings.

However a few seconds later, he realised it would probably be useful if her teacher did know about her past, just to prevent any awkward or upsetting moments in the future, if for example a stray comment was made unassumingly about car safety, or road accidents.

“Her mother - Audrey - she was killed in a car accident several years ago,” he murmured, not meeting her gaze as he stared through the pictures. “Lola was only a baby at the time, but I try to ensure she knows about her… knows who she was.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Miss Hand told him earnestly. “It’s never easy to lose somebody we love, especially in such terrible circumstances.”

“Thank you,” he replied, truly appreciating her words.

She didn’t ask any more questions, and he didn’t offer extra details, and after a few moments of companionable silence, she turned to him once more.

“If you don’t mind, I shall leave you to it,” she announced quietly, adjusting her glasses slightly on her nose. “I have to get back to the classroom before my next appointment arrives. Again, it was lovely to meet you, Mr Coulson.”

With that she nodded, before moving around him and opening one of the large wooden doors Phil had walked through on his way into the hall.

“I was wondering,” he said quickly, pointing to the pictures beside him as she turned back to face him. “When this display is removed, could I possibly have her painting back?”

Miss Hand smiled, immediately understanding why he would want it. “Of course. I’ll make sure it gets back to you.”

“Thank you.”

He watched as she walked off through the doors, and he turned back to the wall, opening his phone camera and holding it up so he could get a shot of the picture. It was always good to have a backup copy.

Just in case.

* * *

 

Melinda wasn’t exactly sure how it had happened, but on the third weekend of November, she found herself back at her old flat, helping Natasha’s new room-mate Sharon move in.

Natasha had somehow managed to convince her that it was necessary to be there, and in fairness, she’d ended up with nothing else to do that day anyway. 

Phil had promised Lola he would take her to the cinema that afternoon, to watch a new movie she’d seen advertised on the television, whilst recovering from her sickness bug. They’d asked Melinda if she wanted to accompany them, but she’d decided to stay at home, having woken with a pressing headache, and opted for a day of relaxation to herself.

She was looking forward to having the house to herself too, until Natasha’s avalanche of messages and phone calls arrived, bombarding her with information and requests and pleading.

A hot shower and several painkillers later, she ended up giving up on her day of peace, and walking around to the old flat, her arrival coinciding with that of a small white removal van pulling up outside the building.

Natasha bounded down the front stairs and into the street to greet her new roomie, followed closely behind by Clint, and Melinda watched with a small smile as - presumably - Sharon climbed out from the van, only to get accosted by Natasha as soon as her feet touched the pavement.

She walked over to join them.

“Hey Mel!” called Natasha, waving over to her as Clint opened up the back of the van, revealing surprisingly few boxes of possessions. She arrived just in time to hear Sharon insisting Clint didn’t need to help carry her things upstairs for her.

“... seriously, I can manage, you don’t have to.”

“It’s no problem, ” he lifted the closest box from the van, and took a step backwards. “Anyway, Tash basically blackmailed me into helping, so I’m here now.”

Sharon laughed, and Natasha just winked at her, before turning to face Melinda.

“Mel, this is Sharon,” she turned to look at her new roommate. “Sharon, this is Mel, she used to live with me, until she decided to shack up with her boyfriend and abandon me.”

“Hey!” Melinda gasped, mock glaring at Natasha as Sharon watched them in amusement. “I did not abandon you, I just…”

“Abandoned me?” Natasha offered, grinning again, before shaking her head. “It’s fine, you’re forgiven, for now.”

Melinda rolled her eyes at her as Natasha glanced back towards the van, checking how many boxes they would be carrying upstairs with them, before turning to Sharon.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” she told her, smiling as she took in her appearance. “Nat said you’re a nurse?”

“Likewise, and yeah,” Sharon smiled, pulling a hair-tie off her wrist and fastening up her blonde locks. “I work at Sitwell General Hospital, been there a few years now.”

“Enjoy it?”

She nodded, reaching around to the back of the van, and lifted out a cardboard box labelled “clothes”. Melinda didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes flitted to the box and away; she would undoubtedly take any cast-offs out of Sharon’s hands if she decided to clear out her wardrobe at some point during her stay.

“It’s good, but tiring. This is my first Saturday off in weeks.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, but it’s interesting,” she continued, as Melinda herself pulled a box labelled “bedding & furnishings” from the back of the van, and after Natasha telling them she would wait outside so Sharon’s possessions weren’t left unattended, the two began to head up the stairs and into the building. “I mean, I’ve been in the emergency department for the past few weeks, but on Monday, I start a rotation in the infectious disease ward.”

They reached the top of the stairs in time to meet Clint heading back down, and as the two walked into the flat, Melinda realised she hadn’t been inside since the day she moved out. It was a weird and slightly surreal feeling.

A few steps later, and a wave of dizziness washed over her.

“Are you okay?” Sharon asked, placing the box she was carrying down onto the living room floor. “You’ve gone really pale.”

Melinda nodded, breathing deeply, and feeling the stab of her headache return; clearly the tablets she had taken earlier were beginning to wear off. “I had a sickness bug last week,” she explained, trying to reassure Sharon she was okay. “And then I had a pretty bad headache this morning, it’s just remnants of that.”

She smiled a little, convincing her there was nothing to worry about, and Sharon opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Natasha wandering in, arms laden with two of the smaller boxes.

“Do you want your films in your room, or in here?” Natasha asked, coming to a stop next to the pair of them, and Melinda could see that the boxes had the word “movies” scrawled across them in black marker pen.

“In here, if that’s okay?” Sharon replied, turning her attention back to the moving. “I’ve not got a huge amount of stuff; I’ve never really settled in a place for long enough to acquire a load of material possessions.”

“This is the last box” Clint announced, entering the flat and closing the door behind him. “And it weighs a ton… what’s in it?”

“Books” Sharon replied apologetically, ushering him to put it down. “Thank you.”

“No problem… anybody want a drink? I’m parched.”

With three unanimous responses, he headed off the the kitchen, and Melinda could hear the clink of glasses as he rummaged around in the cupboards; she was struck with how comfortable he was in the flat, and she wondered how often he actually was there.

In a way, it had surprised her when Natasha said Sharon was moving in with her. Despite the short length of their relationship, she’d had a slight feeling Clint might have moved in - the two were definitely made for one another…

An hour later, and the majority of Sharon’s possessions were unpacked. Her clothing was in the wardrobe, her sheets on the bed, and her toiletries in the bathroom.

“Am I alright to use your phone?” Sharon asked after a while, turning to look at Natasha, who was crouched on the floor in front of the sofa, reading the titles off all of the DVD’s Sharon had brought with her and added to the collection. “Or would you prefer if I used mobile?”

“You can use it, no problem” she nodded, glancing up from the selection of films now stacked against the television stand. “It’s in the kitchen”

“Okay, thanks.” Sharon returned to the cardboard box in front of her, and continued unpacking books, handing them gratefully to Melinda, who lined them up on the shelf in the corner, in alphabetical order by author name. They were mostly spy thrillers, with a few crime novels and a couple of chick-lits thrown in too, and seeing them all reminded Melinda she needed to start reading again; it was something she loved almost as much as tai-chi, but recently, just like the latter, she had been neglecting it.

“I need to call my aunt,” Sharon continued, pulling the last of the worn paperbacks from the box. “Let her know I’ve arrived and unpacked… she’ll worry otherwise.”

“Does she live nearby?” Natasha asked, rising from the floor and throwing herself onto the sofa, practically landing on Clint, who had given up helping earlier on, and was watching a sports match on the tv on mute.

Which was ironic, really.

Sharon nodded. “Yeah, she… she lives in a home a few miles away. She has early onset alzheimers, so she often forgets I’ve called, or she’ll think I’m going round when I’m not.”

“That must be hard to deal with” Clint told her, tearing his eyes away from the screen to rejoin their conversation. Melinda listened from the side of the room, adding the final books to the shelf, before heading over to sit on a beanbag in the corner; she was dizzy again, but she wasn’t about to bring it up.

“It is,” Sharon agreed, sighing as she glanced between them all. “But she led an amazing life - still is doing - and I love going to see her. She’s so strong and independent, she’s definitely a role model for me.”

Melinda watched Sharon and Natasha interacting so easily, and smiled to herself. She had a feeling the two would be pretty good friends in no time…

* * *

 

“Are you excited to meet your new cousin Lola?”

Phil, Melinda and Lola were all sat at the kitchen table, enjoying an evening meal of wholegrain pasta in arrabiata sauce. Phil had made it from scratch when he arrived home from work, having been in the mood to prepare a meal all day. He’d walked in, rolled his sleeves up, and begun chopping and simmering vegetables, reducing them down to create the sauce.

The whole room was filled with the aroma of basil, from the leaves he had pulled off the small plant in the kitchen window, although Lola had taken one look at the green leaf on her plate and moved it to one side with a look of such disgust that Melinda had laughed out loud.

She nodded in response to his question.

“How long until the baby comes?” Lola asked, a forkful of pasta half chewed in her mouth. Phil frowned, and she covered it with her hand whilst she continued eating.

“It’s due in January” he replied, before wondering if she had any concept of how far away that was.

“Just after Christmas” Melinda added helpfully, seemingly reading his mind, and Lola nodded in understanding; she knew that Christmas was in a few weeks, because a) all the shops had started putting decorations up, and b) her dad had recently asked if there was anything she would be asking Santa for this year.

“Will it be a girl cousin or a boy cousin?”

Melinda looked up to Phil when he didn’t reply immediately, and found him halfway through a piece of garlic bread, so she replied for him.

“They don’t know. It’s a surprise.”

Lola nodded again, before twirling pasta around on her fork. “Will it be like having a brother or sister?”

“Erm,” Phil pondered for a moment. “Not exactly, it will be more like having a really good friend that you know right from when they are born.”

“You said I might get a brother or sister one day,” Lola replied, and Phil practically spat his drank across the table. He’d known this conversation would return to bite him in the ass.

“Lola…”

“But you did,” she frowned at him. “Didn’t you?”

Phil sighed. “Yes, I did.” He wasn’t sure he wanted to look at Melinda right now, but he was pretty certain she would be glaring at him. “But it’s not that simple Lo.”

“Why not?”

“Because. We’re not trying to… I mean, we aren’t…” Phil attempted, swirling pasta around his plate without meeting his daughter’s gaze, and wishing he hadn’t brought it up. “Auntie Maria and Uncle Steve, they are married, and they chose to have a baby.”

“Can’t you choose to?”

“I... Mel, are you okay?”

Phil had finally glanced up, hoping for some assistance or reassurance he was telling his daughter the right thing, only to see the colour drain from Melinda’s face in front of his eyes. She was white, and he was suddenly very tempted to cross the table and make sure she didn’t collapse.

She nodded meekly, dropping her fork onto her plate with a clatter. “I… I don’t feel very well,” she murmured, before rising from the table. “I have to go upstairs.”

Without another word, and avoiding eye contact with both of them, she moved around the table, leaning slightly on the wooden surface for support as she went, before she left the room, practically hurrying away from them both.

Phil frowned, halfway out of his seat to follow her, and listened to her footsteps as she climbed the stairs. But she didn’t go to the bathroom like he thought she would if she was feeling sick again. From the sound of it, she had locked herself in their bedroom.

That was odd.

He sat back down, and turned to Lola again, who was pushing pasta around her plate with a worried expression on her face.

“I’m sorry” she whispered, looking like she might begin crying at any moment. “I made her sad.”

Phil was struck by how her final comment sounded so innocent, before remembering with a sigh that she was in fact only five years old. Of course she would ask questions and be curious - it wasn’t her fault.

“No you didn’t,” he replied, smiling at her in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “She’s just not very well, you remember how you had your tummy bug the other week?”

Lola nodded.

“Well Mel caught it, but she’s had it a little longer than you did, that’s all.”

“But she ran off,” she protested, no longer interested in eating her food.

“She’ll come back,” he assured her. “She’s probably just gone for a lie down.”

* * *

 

Melinda stared at the packet of contraceptive pills in her hand, and took a deep breath. There didn’t appear to be enough oxygen in the room with her, because moments later she took another breath. And then another.

She tried desperately to calm herself down.

Lola’s question about siblings had been innocent enough, and the words had momentarily sent her mind wandering, wondering what it would be like to one day have a child of her own. But it had been Phil’s reply, about them not trying to have a baby, that had triggered something in her mind.

Why she had been continuously sick over the past few weeks, despite Lola and Phil’s illnesses passing in under seven days.

Why she had been feeling dizzy, and had been suffering headaches so often.

Why she was so tired, always wanting to laze in bed instead of getting up, and falling asleep on the sofa in front of the television with Lola.

She checked the date on her phone, and mentally began counting in her head. The number was just as she feared. She counted again. And again.

Another deep breath.

As she listened over the hammering of her heart, she could hear Phil and Lola clearing the dishes from the kitchen. Then came the sounds of the television, and she knew Phil had put Lola in front of it.

Sure enough, his footsteps were on the stairs only a few moments later, before he knocked gently on their door, opening it when she didn’t reply, and stepping into the room.

She stood up from the edge of the bed, and he closed the door behind him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern etched all across his face. “You left so suddenly, Lola was worried that you…. Mel?”

He frowned, realising she was semi-frozen in front of him.

“Phil…” she paused, not even sure how to tell him what she was thinking. This wasn’t something they had planned, and she had no idea how he would react when he found out. “I don’t think I’m throwing up because I’m sick.”

“You don’t?” he asked, a confused look on his face at her words. “Did you eat something bad then, or…?”

She shook her head slowly, and as she stared at him with wide eyes, Phil glanced down, looking for the first time at the packet of contraceptive pills in her hand, and back up to her face with an expression that told her he was slowly beginning to put everything together.

“I’m late, Phil,” she said quietly, unable to look anywhere but his face, and feeling slightly faint again, white spots patterning her vision as she tried to blink them away. “And with everything going on this month, I didn’t even realise.”

He swallowed. “You’re… you mean you’re -“

“I think so.”

“But we… I mean, you’re on the pill –“

“- I know!” She looked helplessly at him. “This isn’t meant to happen. They’re like…” she gestured with the box she had been reading the back of, before he had come into the room. “They’re ninety-nine percent effective.”

“We can’t be the one percent they didn’t work for, Mel, we can’t... the chances of that are…”

She gave him a look. She knew exactly how slim the chances were. And yet...

“You’ve not missed one, by mistake?” he asked, knowing as soon as the words left his mouth that it was a stupid question. Every morning since they had begun sleeping together, way back in February, he had seen her take it. She wouldn’t miss one, it wasn’t like her at all. She was too careful.

She shook her head, opening the pack, checking it once more to make sure there wasn’t a stray pill in there. “I’ve taken it every day, I’m certain.”

“And…” he was wracking his brain, trying to work out what was going on, the truth not really sinking in at all. “Nothing could have, I don’t know, interfered with it somehow?”

“No, not that I know of, I mean…”

She trailed off, and Phil visibly watched her eyes cloud over, as though suddenly transporting herself back in time through her memories.

It took a few moments of silence before she replied.

“Halloween” she murmured, so quiet he almost missed it.

“Halloween?”

“We went out, drank too many tequila shots, we… we had sex in the hall... “ she was staring wildly at him now, having dropped the box of pills onto the bed behind her, and covered her mouth with her right hand. “And the next morning I was so hungover… I was sick, and spent half the day in bed.”

He felt himself visibly pale as he remembered, and realised what she meant.

“You threw your pill back up?”

“I must have… I didn’t even think to take another… and then the week after Lola was unwell and I thought I’d caught it but… this is my fault!”

“No Mel, no.”

He finally crossed the room to her, taking her into his arms.

“It’s okay” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Are you 100% positive that you are… you know? It could just be stress? Or hormones? Or...”

She shook her head slowly, and swallowed, suddenly desperately in need of some air. “I haven't got any tests, but…”

“Okay,” he interrupted, not wanting her to work herself up even more than she already was. “Lola is watching tv downstairs.You stay here, breathe, try to stay calm. I will go and buy one right now, okay? ”

She simply nodded, dazed, before she sat down on the edge of the bed, and stared into the mirror beside her, her reflection almost unrecognisable to her.

In twenty-eight years, she had never had a pregnancy scare. Never. She was careful. She took her pill religiously each morning. This wasn’t meant to happen.

Was it?

* * *

 

An hour later, and Melinda was sat in their en-suite bathroom, resting on the edge of the tub, staring at the little white stick that could change their lives forever.

Everything had happened so suddenly, she hadn’t even had time to process, and she still wasn’t even sure which result she wanted, which made the wait even harder to bear.

Gnawing on her nails, she tapped her foot impatiently, and listened as Phil put Lola to bed in the next room, promising her that Melinda wasn’t upset with her, and that she was just “feeling unwell”.

Unwell was probably an understatement, but she was thankful he didn’t tell her anything else.

The timer on her phone beeped a few moments later, and Melinda closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, before finally opening them back up, and discovering her fate.

* * *

 

Phil was waiting for her when she returned to their bedroom. He had put Lola to bed, trying his hardest to make everything seem like it was normal, and then had come back, closing the door to their room behind him, before pacing around.

This was crazy. It was impossible. It was…

His thoughts were interrupted as the bathroom door opened, creaking as it was slowly pulled agape, and as soon as Melinda entered the room, she looked at him, eyes wide, visibly shaking where she stood.

He knew what she was going to say before the words left her mouth.

“It’s positive.”

“Positive.” Phil felt like he was suddenly in a far off place, zoning out as the gravity of what was happening finally hit home.

They stood in silence, facing each other but neither really focused on the person opposite.

“What do I do. I don’t know what to do,” she pleaded, her voice cracking and her eyes filling with tears, as the enormity of the situation began to take over. Melinda didn’t usually cry, and hardly ever had done throughout her entire life. But this, this was something she never thought she would have to deal with.

“Hey,” he said softly, coming back to reality and walking up to her, cupping her face in his hands, and wiping away the tear that managed to escape; he’d never seen her cry before. “We’ll be okay, everything is going to be alright.”

“We’ve been together less than a year!”

“I know, Mel, I know,” he cooed quietly, wrapping her up into a gentle embrace, and holding her close, feeling her body trembling against him as his heart threatened to burst from his chest. “But, we live together, and we love each other… it’s not as though we wouldn’t be able to cope.”

She sobbed against his chest, everything finally becoming too much to handle, and he hugged her tighter, one hand tangling in silken hair to hold her head against him, and the other stroking circles into her lower back.

Pregnant.

_Pregnant._

The two of them simply stood in the middle of their room, letting the darkness fade over them as night drew in.

The test remained clutched in her hand, the little blue plus sign visible as clear as day for all to see.

Neither would be getting any sleep tonight.


	16. December

**December**

The first Sunday in December was taken up by Maria and Steve’s baby shower.

Pepper had organised it - apparently she had a knack for coordinating large events - and had decided that rather than the traditional “women only” party, that all the men were invited too.

In the end, it turned out like a normal party, in a hired hall, except instead of everybody getting drunk and dancing, they were presenting Maria and Steve with various gifts for their impending arrival.

Maria had created a wish-list of items they still needed before the baby came, and each guest was advised to choose something from the selection provided.

Phil had scanned the list one evening the previous week, and suggested to Melinda that they could purchase the bottle sterilising kit, as he knew first hand just how necessary it was to have one of those once the baby was feeding from bottles.

Melinda had nodded in agreement, and happily chipped in her half, but as soon as she saw Natasha a few days later, the two decided that Maria would much rather receive a bottle of Russian vodka, and a set of brand new shot glasses, for when she could finally relax again.

They kept that one quiet from Phil and Steve, but the grin on Maria’s face when she opened it had been worth the secrecy.

The room that had been hired out for the occasion, was filled with bunches of balloons in pastel colours, both baby blue and pale pink - seeing as the sex of the baby was to be a surprise - and wrapped together with ribbons.

A few tables around the edges were covered in gifts, and the rest filled to bursting with plates of various food offerings; from mini quiches made with creamy cheese and caramelised red onion, to sweet apple and pear tarts dusted with crystal sugar, and individual sliced sandwiches, stuffed with an array of fillings that far outshone a simple cheese and ham.

The centre piece however, was a large white cake, covered in frosting, and decorated with scrolling icing with the words “new baby” along the top. There were sugar paste rattles, and dummies, in both blue and pink, and edible confetti surrounded the stand it was resting upon.

Pepper really had outdone herself this time.

To the side of the cake, was a three tiered chocolate fountain, pouring molten rivers of deep sweetness in a constant loop. Silver platters around it were filled with strawberries, grapes, and marshmallows, and there were even shot glasses, for those after a pure liquid taste.

The party passed in a blur, with guests milling around and laughing and joking.

Melinda found herself on the outskirts after a while, almost disconnected from what was going on within, but it took her until the slicing of the cake to work out why that was.

Everyone was cheering and clapping, and Maria and Steve were beaming at each other.

Steve had his hand against her stomach, and the two sliced open the cake just like they had done on their wedding day.

They were the perfect picture of happiness together.

That image, right in front of her, that snapshot of pure joy, that was how Melinda had thought she would feel when pregnant. But she didn’t, and the realisation hit her like a punch to the gut. Swallowing the rest of her drink down, she forced a smile to her face when her gaze met Maria’s momentarily.

As soon as everybody began to surge forwards, queueing up for paper plates and matching napkins and slices of sugar coated sponge cake, Melinda escaped the room, turning the corner at the end of the corridor, and opening the large wooden doors that led to outside the hall.

There was a small garden area out there - they had passed it on the way in - and she wandered slowly across the gravelled footpath, her boots crunching against the collection of rough stones as she went, before she stopped by a little wooden bench, set amongst the lilies and flowers that adorned the flowerbeds.

She needed space.

She needed to breathe.

In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.

In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.

She wondered if it was natural to be this afraid, or if it was just her, overreacting and being completely ridiculous about the whole thing. After all, having a baby, it was… biology. Human nature. Normal.

Maria and Steve. They were happy. They had wanted this and were practically oozing with excitement.

She had seen that look in Phil’s eyes, after they had realised what the positive result of the test meant. He’d tried not to let it show, not whilst she was panicking so much, but she’d seen it all the same.

Hope.

Melinda had been so lost in her own thoughts, she only heard the sound of someone approaching about five seconds before they reached her.

As she glanced up, she met the gaze of Phil, who was smiling softly at her as he came to a stop before her, his hands shoved casually in his jeans pockets.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

The both stayed silent for a while, listening to the sounds of distant traffic on some far away main road. Neither spoke.

Eventually, he removed his hands from his pockets, stepping over the small wall lining the gravel path, and came to sit next to her on the bench.

The last few days had been… strained.

Since they had found out she was pregnant, neither had seemed to know what to say.

Phil wanted to jump for joy, despite how much he hid it; Melinda wanted to hide away, despite how little good it would do her.

She knew they needed to sit down, and talk about it properly, but she wasn’t sure how to do that when she herself didn’t even know how to make sense of what was going through her head.

It didn’t look like he was going to give her much choice though, as the next words from his mouth told her exactly where the conversation was going.

“Mel, we need to talk about this.”

She nodded meekly, pulling her legs up and crossing them beneath her, staring at the gravel path below.

“I guess this wasn’t the best weekend to come to a baby shower,” he joked weakly, and she smiled a little, glancing over to him next to her.

“Mel…” Phil sighed, and he turned towards her slightly, taking hold of her hands in his own. “I know this was a massive shock - to both of us - but we’re going to have to decide what we’re doing about it.”

“I know” she replied quietly, her voice catching in her throat.

“I… I love you, and I don't want this to come between us.” He swallowed, and she could feel him physically deflate beside her. "If not having this baby is the right thing, then I will support you with that choice."

"But you want it."

"It's…” he shook his head, stroking his thumbs around her wrists. “It’s not just my choice, Mel, it’s you who would have to go through the pregnancy, and the birth. It’s your body, not mine."

"But if it were up to you?" she pressed, needing to know how he truly felt about it. “If it was you, alone.”

He looked up at her, and smiled almost sorrowfully. "Then... yes, I would keep it."

Melinda blinked hard. She would not cry over this, not again. But in honesty, she'd never felt so out of control of anything in her life.

"I always imagined," she murmured softly, so quietly Phil could barely hear her, despite them being alone outside. "That if I ever got pregnant, I'd be happy."

"And you're not."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and the bluntness of it wasn't masked by his soothing tones.

"It’s not that I’m upset,” she shook her head, the tear that escaped from the corner of her eye getting rubbed away by gentle hands. “I'm terrified, Phil. I’ve never felt so…”

“I know. I know” he cooed. “I don’t think this being sprung on you completely unprepared helped either. But, maybe it’s a good thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you’re scared, then it’s a challenge, it’s something you’ve never faced before. Conquer your fears.”

Melinda let his words mull around for a while, and he waited patiently, letting her reassemble her jumbled mind before she spoke again.

“Can I think about it?” she asked cautiously, chewing her lip. “Give me a couple of weeks. Just… I need to get my head around it and work out what I want.”

He nodded.

“Of course.”

* * *

 

On the second week of December, Melinda, Natasha, Maria and Sharon, all decided, that rather than buying Christmas presents for one another, they would all go for a meal together instead, and spend an evening socialising and catching up.

Melinda organised it, needing something to do to keep her mind off her pregnancy. She still wasn’t sure what to do, and whilst she knew how much Phil wanted the baby, despite him insisting it was completely her choice, she was still absolutely terrified by the proposition of having a child.

When she rang around, asking who was free and on which evening, everyone agreed to meet up on the Saturday… everyone except Bobbi.

Maria sat in the booth they had been allocated, drinking only water, having not felt like eating anything at all. She was too hot, not hungry, and downright uncomfortable, so whilst the others ate their meals, she decided instead to get to know Sharon a little better.

“We used to go out like this a lot,” she explained, smiling as some rather eventful memories returned to mind. “Until I got pregnant… it’s usually us, plus another friend called Bobbi.”

“Where is Bobbi?” Natasha asked, dabbing her mouth with her napkin.

“Bobbi,” Maria continued, taking another sip of iced water from the blue glass in front of her.  “Is currently on a last-minute flight to London.”

“She’s going to see Lance?” Melinda asked, wide eyes matching the smile creeping onto her face.

Maria nodded.

“Those two have been on and off for years” Maria explained to Sharon, who was listening to the conversation with no clue who the others were discussing. “They split again in September for about the fourth time.”

“He lives in England” Natasha continued, scooping another slice of pizza up with her fingers, the ridiculous number of toppings she’d ordered for it dropping off it back onto the board. “So they were kind of doing the long-distance thing.”

“Fifty bucks says this time it works out” Maria announced, rising from the table for the third time that evening, before glancing apologetically at them all. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom again, sorry, this baby is kicking my bladder.”

“Too much info, M” Natasha muttered rolling her eyes as she munched away on another slice of pizza.

“It’s fine” Melinda told her instead, smiling in what she hoped was a supportive manner. She could tell how uncomfortable Maria was getting, and she didn’t want to her to worry about disrupting their meal. Anyway, chances were, if she and Phil kept the baby, then she’d be feeling exactly the same way in about seven months time…

“So,” Natasha asked, turning to Sharon as Maria wandered off across the restaurant. “You want in on the bet? Agree with Maria? Or, like me, do think the whole relationship is a trainwreck and she’ll come back single?”

“I don’t know her,” she replied, grinning as she stabbed another slice of chicken in her salad. “But fifty says she returns from England engaged.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows, pausing a pizza slice halfway to her mouth. “You picked the wrong side, Carter.”

Sharon tilted her head to the side, winking at Natasha and spearing a lettuce leaf.

“Depends on where you’re standing.”

* * *

 

Phil placed the small wooden tray, holding two flapjacks on little white plates, and two cups of steaming coffee, down onto the table in front of him, before removing the items and positioning them in front of both seats.

Anne smiled up at him in thanks, and once he had been to collect some sugar sachets to add to the drinks, he returned, and took the seat opposite his mother.

It was a Thursday afternoon, less than a week before Christmas, and Lola was at swimming once more. Her class in school had finished for half term, and Phil had broken up the day before, so he had happily obliged when his daughter wanted to go back to the pool for a few hours.

Being at the fitness centre however, meant that Melinda didn’t get as many holidays as he did, therefore she was still at work. She’d booked off the week after Christmas, and he knew for a fact she was counting down the days until she could escape the madness for a while.

He had decided to spend the afternoon with Anne, after realising in shock that he hadn’t seen her properly and had a proper catch-up since Melinda’s birthday in October, and that simply was not good enough. Sure, they would be seeing each other over Christmas, especially since everyone was going round to Anne’s house on the 25th like usual, but days like that were usually taken over by food and excitement and general festive joy… followed by falling asleep on the sofa.

Naturally.

The two had headed out to a small cafe a few blocks from the fitness centre, and, after a little wait for a table, had managed to get a cute corner set up, with a sprig of holly in a vase in the middle.

The whole place was decorated for Christmas, from the flashing lights that adorned the window, to the tinsel draped across the serving counters and fridges.

But Phil had to admit, he wasn’t feeling entirely Christmassy.

“You’ve been quiet all morning,” Anne told him, and he realised he’d drifted off into daydream mode again. “What’s the matter?”

He shrugged, not wanting to worry her or bother her, or to ruin their afternoon out, but as usual, she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

She placed a hand over his own, patting it softly.

“What’s happened Phil?”

She knew him too well; there was no way he could hide anything from her. Phil smiled a little, but not too much, not wanting her to get carried away with her reaction.

“Melinda is pregnant.”

The grip on his hand tightened, and he watched as a smile spread across her face.

“She is?”

He nodded, before glancing past her, and staring out of the window, into the frosty street outside.

“Only a few weeks, but…”

He trailed off, and he could see the smile falter slightly from the corner of his eye.

“But what?” she asked softly, watching him carefully as he looked back at her.

“She’s terrified” he admitted, shaking his head a little as he thought about how scared Melinda really was - he had a feeling she hadn’t shown him half of what was going through her mind. “She’s terrified, and… I don’t know what she wants to do.”

“It was unplanned?” Anne asked quietly, still resting her hand against her son’s, and picking a chunk off her flapjack with the other, absently placing a piece into her mouth.

He nodded. “Completely.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Honestly?” he replied, picking up his coffee cup and taking a glug of the scalding liquid. The heat as it burned it’s way down his throat actually made him talk. “I want to keep it. I want this child. I know we haven’t been together long, but I just think it would be… amazing.”

“It would,” she assured him, taking a sip of her own coffee. “Have you spoken to her about it? Properly?” She looked at him over her cup, and he almost felt himself squirming.

“Yes. I told her that… it was her choice.”

Anne raised her eyebrows, so he elaborated.

“I said it was her who would have to go through the pregnancy and the labour, it would be her body that would change, so I said it was her choice if she wanted to do this.”

Anne smiled proudly at him, placing her cup back onto the table in front of them.

“My son” she murmured almost to herself. “I raised you well.”

Phil wasn’t sure what to make of that, so he simply smiled a little abashedly.

“Your father and I,” she told him quietly, ignoring the remaining bits of flapjack that littered her side plate. “We found out we were expecting your sister completely out of the blue. We always wanted just one child, and we had you, and we doted on you,” she continued, and Phil listened closely, never having been told this story before.

“So when we found out your sister was coming, we were a little stunned.”

She smiled to herself, and Phil waited whilst she lost herself in memories he had no knowledge of.

“When did you…” Phil began, before changing the wording of his question. “At what point did you know you’d made the right decision?”

“When we saw that first scan. We found out later on in the pregnancy that I was expecting, so she was a little more developed than usual. This little shape on the screen, with a heartbeat and a brain and tiny lungs. And I just knew. I knew we were meant to have another child.”

He smiled then, never having realised how different his life could have been if his parents had made another choice.

Anne squeezed his hand once more.

“You’re right Phil, it is her body, but remember, this is your child too. Don’t let fear take over and make a rash decision for you both.”

* * *

 

“Mama.... I’m pregnant.”

It was Christmas Eve, and whilst Phil and Lola spent the afternoon together, wrapping presents for their relatives, drinking far too much hot chocolate with whipped cream on top, and sitting in front of the flickering orange flames of the fire, Melinda had gone to visit the one person she knew she needed to talk to the most.

She went to visit her mother.

Sure, the two of them didn’t have the best of relationships, but Melinda knew one-hundred percent that it was her she wanted to see, to discuss what was happening, and seek advice from the person she trusted the most.

Her mother paused, her tea halfway to her mouth at her daughter’s words, before she placed the cup back onto the saucer in front of her. She collected her thoughts for a moment, before looking back up.

“Qiaolian, you are not married.”

“I know.” She’d accepted before she had made the journey to her mother’s house that once she found out, the fact her daughter was not married before she became pregnant would be a slight irk of her mother’s. “This was… we didn't mean to...”

“You were careless?”

“No.” Melinda shook her head, and glanced to the table. “No. It just... “ she sighed. “Mama, I don’t know what to do.”

Tian observed her for a while.

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know!”

She waited for her daughter to calm down again, before changing the direction of her questions. “What does Phillip think? He knows, I assume?”

“Yes. He…” Melinda looked down into her lap, and played with her hands, twisting her fingers together whilst she found the words. “He said it was my body, so it would be my choice.”

“Phillip is a good man” Tian murmured, surprising Melinda, who glanced back up to see her mother watching her, almost looking impressed. “Does he want the baby?”

She nodded, remembering how hard it had been to tell him she wasn’t sure, and seeing the light fade slightly in his eyes as he realised it might not happen.

“Do you, Qiaolian?”

“I…”

“If I took you to a clinic next week,” Tian asked her softly. “Could you get rid of it?”

Melinda unconsciously covered her stomach with her hands, before shaking her head, at first timidly, then a little stronger. “No, I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because… because it’s a baby. It’s…” Melinda swallowed. “It’s our baby.”

Tian nodded in silence, before turning back to her book, giving her daughter the chance to come to terms with her own thoughts.

Melinda knew she couldn’t do it, she wouldn’t.

“Life isn’t perfect, Qiaolian” her mother murmured, flicking over the page and reaching out to pick up her cup from the coffee table in front of her. “Things don’t always run to the plan you may have thought you were following. There are unexpected alterations, journeys complete themselves before you believed the path over, and others continue much longer. This baby is a surprise, yes, but it may also be a blessing, to you both.”

She placed her book onto the table in front of her, alongside the now-empty teacup.

“A mother, Qiaolian, you would be a mother.” She looked up, and met her daughter’s gaze; Melinda hadn’t heard her say so many words together in… well, her whole life. “I promise you, that raising a child would give you greater joy than anything else. More than your job, more than wealth, or holidays, or nights out with your friends. A child will fill your entire life with happiness, and stress, and anxiety. But it will all be worth it, when you can sit here, across from them, and realise with pride, what an incredible person they have become.”

Melinda wiped away a tear, and smiled.

“This is your choice, Qiaolian, and I will support you whatever you decide, but remember, you may not get another chance to be blessed with such a miracle. I know you would rather pretend nothing is happening, but you can’t… it’s time to deal with reality.”

* * *

 

Melinda glanced around the room, and couldn’t help but smile.

So much had changed in just one year. Twelve months ago, and she had been in her flat, alone, watching a cheesy film on tv, and eating takeout pizza, waiting until it was an acceptable time to go to bed.

Now, she was curled up against the man she loved, a tin of chocolates in between them, with Lola at their feet under her duvet cover, and they were all watching a film about a magic train taking children to the North Pole to meet Santa.

It was perfect.

As the end credits rolled, Phil stirred, rising slowly from the sofa, passing her the tin of chocolate to stop them falling to the floor.

“Right Lo,” he announced, stretching out slightly and yawning. “Time for bed.”

She turned around from her position on the carpet, and looked up at them both with sleepy eyes.

“I need to put the things out for Santa.”

Phil nodded, and Melinda watched as the two of them headed out of the room towards the kitchen. Phil had told her of the tradition he had built with Lola, and sure enough, a few minutes later they returned, a glass of milk and a plate of cookies in Phil’s hands, and a carrot in Lola’s. All three items were placed onto the coffee table in the middle of the room, and Lola nodded.

“Okay, now I can go to bed.”

She hugged Melinda tight, before wandering from the room, trailing her purple spotty duvet alongside her, and Phil lingered in the doorway a moment longer, waiting until Lola was up the stairs before talking.

“I’ll be back in about ten minutes” he murmured quietly to Melinda, who had turned off the tv, and was tidying up the wrappers that littered the couch. “You still okay to help get the last things wrapped?”

She nodded, and gave him a small smile. “Of course, you go.”

He grinned thankfully at her, before bounding up the stairs like an excited child, and a few minutes later Melinda could hear his deep tones through the ceiling, as he read “The Night Before Christmas” to his daughter.

Despite how prepared Phil liked to think he was, it had still reached Christmas Eve, and all of Lola’s gifts were not yet wrapped.

Melinda shook her head fondly at how hopeless he was, before herself rising up from the sofa. After waiting for the momentary dizziness to pass, she walked to the kitchen and binned the wrappers, placing the now half-empty box back into the cupboard. She opened the door next to it, and pulled out two tall glasses, then headed across the room to the fridge. Peering inside, she selected the fizzy pop that Phil had bought for Lola, before she poured both herself and Phil a glass of the stuff each.

As she headed back into the living room, she could hear the sound of Phil closing Lola’s bedroom door, and opening theirs, and a few minutes later he joined her in the front room, a selection of various chocolate items and miniature novelties laid out around them.

He pulled a roll of wrapping paper out from behind the sofa, and between the two of them they organised a system, where he cut the paper to size and pulled off tape, and she wrapped the gift.

It was going to be a long night.

Once the final present was wrapped, a good two hours later, they stuffed them into Lola’s stocking, and Phil took it upstairs, hanging it around her bedroom door handle, before helping Melinda clear up the debris of paper shreds, sellotape pieces that had been screwed up when they misbehaved and stuck to fingers, and stray strands of metallic ribbon that littered the floor.

He then headed back upstairs, followed by Melinda, and the two of them brought down all the gifts that “Santa” had brought for Lola, and they arranged them underneath the tree.

She was a lucky girl.

When the final present was placed, Phil turned off the fairy lights that adorned the branches, and took Melinda’s hand, leading her up the stairs to their room, the quiet of the house both calming and reassuring from the deep night outside.

They got reading for bed in the quiet, the only sounds those of running water from the tap as Melinda brushed her teeth, and the slight creak from the wardrobe door as Phil closed it behind him.

They curled up together under the sheets, Melinda resting her head against his chest, Phil’s arms encircling her body.

“So,” he murmured, caressing her hair under the stream of moonlight cutting through the gap in the curtains. “I never got a chance to ask, but how is your mother?”

“She’s okay.”

“Is she still coming with us tomorrow?”

Melinda nodded against him.

“I said we’d pick her up about two, if that’s alright?”

“Yeah,” Phil replied. Tian was, joining them for Anne’s annual Christmas Day meal, which could make for a very interesting day. “We don’t need to be at my mother’s until three, and Steve and Maria might be late anyway… apparently she was having Braxton Hicks contractions today,” he continued. “So she’s worried the baby might be coming sooner than they expected.”

Melinda nodded again, and curled herself up against him a little bit closer, inhaling the scent of him that was as familiar to her now as her own.  

“My mother knows I’m pregnant,” Melinda whispered, finally starting the conversation she knew they needed to have. At her words, she could feel Phil tense up slightly, as though he was already fearing the worst.

“I thought you didn’t want to tell her?”

“She guessed. Sort of.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, and she could feel his fingertips tracing circles on her back.

“How did she take it?”

“Better than I thought,” she replied, “much better, in fact.”

“What did you say?”

“I… I told her the truth,” Melinda murmured honestly. “That I was terrified, and didn’t know what to do. And she asked what you wanted.”

“Mel, it’s -”

“- I know,” she interrupted, lifting a hand and gently touching his cheek. “I know, Phil. She asked, and I told her you’d said it was my body, so my choice.” Melinda trailed her fingertips across his jaw-line, and looked up to him. “And she turned around and said that you were a good man.”

Phil raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“I know,” she teased, “I was shocked too.”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head at her, but she was pleased to see the twinkle was back in his eyes. She’d missed this, this easy banter between them, just the two of them relaxing freely.

She’d missed it because she’d freaked and blocked him out, and that realisation hurt.

Her mother was right. No matter how scared she may be, it was time to deal with reality.

“I was going to give you this tomorrow,” she murmured, disentangling herself from his arms and sitting up, leaning over the side of the bed. She pulled her handbag up onto the blankets with them, before rummaging through it. “But I think… you should have it now.”

Out of her bag, Melinda removed a small wrapped package, bound in green metallic paper and silver ribbons, before dropping her handbag back onto the floor.

“Happy Christmas Phil” she murmured, handing him the gift, and staring intently as he frowned at it in confusion.

“You want me to open it now? Not tomorrow?”

She nodded in silence, and crossed her legs beneath her, watching as he began to untie the ribbons holding it together.

The tension nearly killed her.

As he pulled off the paper, Phil turned the gift over in his hands.

It was a book, a small hardback book, with a rainbow of colours across the cover.

“The Big Book of Baby Names” he read, his voice catching on the last two words as he realised what she had given him. “Mel,” he looked up at her with wide eyes, the hope and excitement clear as day, finally not being reined back in. “Are you saying…?”

“We’re doing this,” she replied, a small smile on her face, despite her nerves. “I want to do this.”

He stared at her, shaking his head slightly as he gripped the book in his hands.

“I’m frightened, Phil,” she confessed, knowing it was true despite what she kept trying to tell herself. “And I have no idea what to do next. But yes, I want this baby. I want to have a baby with you.”

He let out a choked laugh, before reaching for her, and pulling her into his lap, holding her against him tightly as he realised what this meant. They were having a baby together.

This was it.

This was happening.

“Mel…”

“I love you.”

* * *

 

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\---

* * *

**Bonus**

**January 1st.**

**01:48**

The sound of the phone ringing downstairs would not normally be something that woke Phil up; he tended to sleep deeply most nights, as opposed to Melinda, who drifted lightly through the hours.

But as soon as the shrill tones began from the hallway, his eyes were open, having clearly not fallen into a total slumber at all; it had been more like a nap, whilst they waited for the call they knew would be coming soon.

And anyway, seeing as it had been New Year’s Eve the night before, it wasn’t as though they had been asleep for long, maybe an hour tops.

He clambered out of bed hurriedly, listening across the house as he crossed the landing. Lola apparently was sleeping through the noise, but Melinda was following him from the room at the same speed, clearly having not slept much either.

The two of them padded down the stairs, and Phil reached out to the phone on the stand in the hallway, grabbing it on it’s final ring.

“Hello?”

“Phil? It’s Steve.”

Phil turned to face Melinda, who was perched on the second to last step, watching him intently. He pressed the button to switch the phone on to speaker mode, so she could hear him as well.

“Hey,” he replied, before swallowing. “So, have you…?”

There was what sounded like a half-laugh and half-sob at the other end of the line.

“She’s here… we have a daughter, Phil. We have a little girl.”

Melinda put her hand over her mouth, and Phil grinned, shaking his head in amazement.

His younger sister had a baby. He had a niece.

Maria had been right when she thought it would be a girl; clearly there was something to say about mother’s instinct.

“That’s amazing!” Phil found himself almost laughing with joy as well, and Melinda stood, wandering over to him and linking their free hands together in the darkness of the hallway - neither had thought to turn a light on. “Is she okay, and is Maria okay?”

She hadn’t been due for another ten days, so there was always the slight chance that the baby might have needed a little bit of help.

“Maria is… amazing,” Steve replied. “She’s exhausted, but she did it, and she is amazing. Baby is… I mean, six pounds and three ounces… did I mention that? No, well, yeah, she’s beautiful, she’s… she’s just so perfect. I can’t believe it.”

His voice held a wonder that neither had ever heard him speak with; it was pride, and happiness, and disbelief, for both of his girls, all rolled into one tone.

“Have you picked a name yet?” Melinda asked quietly, stroking her thumb against Phil’s palm, and leaning her head against his shoulder as they listened.

There was a slight pause, and what sounded like a baby beginning to cry in the background followed by Maria’s soothing tones, before Steve answered.

“Jemma, we’ve called her Jemma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end! Thank you so much to every single person who has read, kudos'ed, commented and subscribed. You're all amazing. If you want to be notified when the sequel is up, you can subscribe to the series and it should let you know xxx

**Author's Note:**

> If you get the chance, please let me know what you think/like/dislike.  
> Reviews help fuel the writing mind...


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